•  UNXA  eARBAIA  • 


i\^3 

•  to  MVMil  mi  • 


^ 

s 


e  THE  UNivERSmr  e 


as 


I 
I 

•  SANTA  BASBAKA  • 


S"D 


e  THE  tlBltAKV  Of  o 
I 


•    VtN80«1V9  JO    o , 


^ 
S 


p  VaVflHW  VIN  f  « 


9 


3f\ 


O    AilSttSAINn  3H1    O. 


o  THE  imitAKv  or  o 

i 


c© 


^g 


n 


«  viKttojnoM  o 


5^* 


9 


fft 


O    or  CAUFORNIA    o 

S 

d 

« 

< 


» 


eO 


yo 


o  AitsasAuxn  SHI  • 


•  to  AavMn  Ml  • 


o    THE  UNIVERSn*    o 


e   or  CAtlfORNIA    o 


M^ 


C© 


m 


F) 


•  viNacMno  to  • 


•  SANTA  BAReARA  • 


e    OF  CAIIRSRNIA    e 


U 


3^ 


«  M  Aitvaan  9U  « 


«,    IMt  UNIVBRStTV    0 


o 

3 


•  SANTA  SAfiBACA  • 


B 


e  Of  CAtlFORNlA    e 


W 


^ 


f^ 


o  40  Asvtaii  am  » 


e  WVflDVfl  V1MV5  o 


s 


9 


Sft 


0  Aii$)t3AtNn  am  o 


B 


«  iw  uWASv  or  »' 

2 


ioft 


C© 


E^ 


n 


•    VIN)IOjnV3  iO    o 


e  VHVWVQ 


9 


VINVS  « 

s 

o  AusaaAiNn  am  » 


SS 


O  THE  UBRASV  OF   o 


O   THE  UNWERSiry    0 


^£1    \m 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 

Hbopting  an  Bbanboncb  jfarm. 

i6mo.    Boards,  50  cents. 


"'Adopting  an  Abandoned  Farm'  has  as  much  laugh  to 
the  square  inch  as  any  book  I  have  read  thLs  many  a  day." — 
Boston  Sunday  Herald. 

"Miss  Kate  Sanborn  has  made  a  name  and  place  for  herself 
beside  the  immortal  Sam  Slick,  and  has  made  Gooseville,  Con- 
necticut, as  illustrious  as  Slickville  in  Onion  County,  of  the  same 
State." — The  Critic. 

"  She  scores  a  point  in  every  paragraph." — Chicago  Interior. 

"  Full  of  wit  under  cover,  and  sly  little  hits  at  the  manifold 
peculiarities  of  human  nature." — New  Y'orJi  Home  Joiirnal. 

"  If  any  one  wants  an  hour's  entertainment  for  a  warm  sunny 
day  on  the  piazza,  or  a  cold  wet  day  by  a  log  fire,  this  is  the 
book  that  will  furnish  it." — iVe-zv  York  Observer. 

"  We  all  know  the  charming  lecturer  and  the  clever  writer, 
a  perfect  Rothschild  in  quotation  and  historic  allusions,  but 
Kate  Sanborn  the  farmer  is  a  new  and  extremely  pleasant  ac- 
quaintance. Her  manner  of  description  is  inimitable.  Each 
smallest  incident  becomes  under  her  eloquent  pen  of  vital  in- 
terest and  importance."— ^(jj/^^w  Times. 

"  She  has  unwittingly  answered  a  much-vexed  question  while 
writing  a  truly  delightful  book." — Boston  Pilot, 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street 


A  TRUTHFUL  WOMAN 
IN  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA 


BY 

KATE  SANBORN 

AUTHOR    OF    ADOPTING    AN    ABANDONED    FARM,    ETC. 


NEW    YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1894 


Copyright,  1893, 
By  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I. — Hints  for  the  journey       .        .        .  i 

II. — At  Coronado  Beach     ....  7 

III. — San  Diego 20 

IV. — En  route  to  Los  Angeles  ...  50 

V. — Los  Angeles  and  round  about  .        .  57 

VI. — Pasadena 64 

VII. — Camping  on  Mount  Wilson        .        .  80 
VIII. — Catching    up    on   the    kite  -  shaped 

TRACK 96 

IX. — Riverside 113 

X. — A  lesson  on  the  train       .        .        .123 

XL — Santa  Barbara 137 

XII. — Her  city  and  county  .       .       .       .151 

XIII. — In  gala  dress 165 

XIV. — AU  REVOIR 184 


Cafifornid. 


CHAPTER   I. 

HINTS    FOR    THE    JOURNEY. 

The  typical  Forty-niner,  in  alluring  dreams,  grips 
the  Golden  Fleece. 

The  fin-de-sihle  Argonaut,  in  Pullman  train,  flees 
the  Cold  and  Grip. 

En  Sol y  la  Sotnbra — shade  as  well  as  sun. 


afcv-^jES,  as  California  is.     I  resolve  neither 
*      to  soar  into  romance  nor  drop  into 


poetry  (as  even  Chicago  drummers 
do  here),  nor  to  idealize  nor  quote  too  many 
prodigious  stories,  but  to  write  such  a  book  as  I 
needed  to  read  before  leaving  my  "Abandoned 
Farm,"  "  Gooseville,"  Mass.  For  I  have  dis- 
covered that  many  other  travellers  are  as  igno- 
I 


H  XTrutbfu  Moman, 


rant  as  myself  regarding  practical  information 
about  every-day  life  here,  and  many  others  at 
home  may  know  even  less. 

So  let  me  say  that  California  has  not  a  tropi- 
cal, but  a  semi-tropical  climate,  and  you  need 
the  same  clothing  for  almost  every  month  that 
is  found  necessary  and  comfortable  in  New 
York  or  Chicago  during  the  winter. 

Bring  fur  capes,  heavy  wraps,  simple  woolen 
dresses  for  morning  and  outdoor  hfe ;  and 
unless  roUing  in  wealth,  pack  as  little  as  pos- 
sible of  everything  else,  for  extra  baggage  is  a 
curse  and  will  deplete  a  heavy  purse, — that 
rhymes  and  has  reason  too.  I  know  of  one 
man  who  paid  $300  for  extra  baggage  for  his 
party  of  fifteen  from  Boston  to  Los  Angeles. 

Last  year  I  brought  dresses  and  underwear 
for  every  season,  and  for  a  vague  unknown 
fifth ;  also  my  lectures,  causing  profanity  all 
along  the  line,  and  costing  enough  to  provide 
drawing-room  accommodations  for  the  entire 
trip. 

Why  did  I  come?  Laryngitis,  bronchitis, 
tonsilitis,  had  claimed  me  as  their  OAvn.     Grip 


Ibints  tor  tbe  Journey. 


(I  will  not  honor  it  with  a  foreign  spelling,  now 
it  is  so  thoroughly  acclimated  and  in  every 
home)  had  clutched  me  twice — nay,  thrice ; 
doctors  shook  their  heads,  thumped  my  lungs, 
sprayed  my  throat,  douched  my  nose,  dosed 
me  with  cough  anodynes  and  nerve  tonics,  and 
pronounced  another  winter  in  the  North  a 
dangerous  experiment.  Some  of  you  know 
about  this  from  personal  experience.  Not  a 
human  being  could  I  induce  to  join  me.  If 
this  hits  your  case,  do  not  be  deterred ;  just 
come  and  be  made  over  into  a  joyous,  health- 
ful life.  I  would  not  urge  those  to  take  the 
tedious  journey  who  are  hopelessly  consumptive. 
Home  is  the  best  place  for  such,  and  although 
I  see  many  dragging  wearily  along  with  one 
lung,  or  even  half  of  that,  who  settle  here  and 
get  married  and  prolong  existence  for  a  few 
years,  and  although  some  marvellous  cures  have 
been  effected,  still  I  say  the  same. 

And  what  is  to  be  put  in  the  one  big  trunk? 
Plenty  of  flannels  of  medium  thickness,  a  few 
pretty  evening  dresses,  two  blouses,"  silk  and 
woolen  or  velvet  for  morning  wear,  with  simple 


H  ITrutbtul  Moman. 


skirts,  a  gossamer,  rubbers,  thick  boots  for  long 
tramps  and  excursions,  parasol,  umbrella,  soft 
hat  to  shade  the  face,  and  gloves  for  all  sorts 
of  occasions.  I  do  not  venture  to  suggest 
anything  for  men,  they  travel  so  sensibly.  The 
more  experienced  one  is,  the  less  he  carries 
with  him. 

So  do  not  load  up  with  portfolio  and  portable 
inkstand,  your  favorite  .stationery,  the  books 
that  delighted  your  childhood  or  exerted  a 
formative  influence  upon  your  character  in 
youth.  Deny  yourself  and  leave  at  home  the 
gold  or  silver  toilet  set,  photograph  album,  fam- 
ily Bibles,  heavy  fancy  work,  gilded  horseshoe 
for  luck,  etc.  I  know  of  bright  people  who 
actually  carried  their  favorite  matches  from  an 
eastern  city  to  Tacoma,  also  a  big  box  of 
crackers,  cheese,  pickles,  and  preserved  fruits, 
only  to  find  the  best  of  everything  in  that  brill- 
iant and  up-with-the-times  city.  One  old  lady 
brought  a  calla-lily  in  a  pot !  When  she  arrived 
and  saw  hedges  and  fields  of  lilies,  hers  went 
out  of  the  window.  Another  lady  from  Boston 
brought  a  quart  bottle    of  the    blackest    ink, 


tints  tor  tbe  Journey. 


only  to  spill  it  all  upon  a  new  carpet  at  Santa 
Barbara,  costing  the  boarding-house  keeper 
thirty-five  dollars.  Everything  that  one  needs 
can  be  purchased  all  along  the  way,  from  a 
quinine  capsule  to  a  complete  outfit  for  any 
occasion. 

As  to  the  various  ways  of  coming  here,  I 
greatly  prefer  the  Southern  Pacific  in  winter, 
and  Atchison,  Topeka  &  Santa  Fe  in  spring  or 
summer.  Either  will  take  you  from  New  York 
to  San  Diego  and  return  for  $137,  allowing  six 
months'  stay.  The  "  Phillips  Excursion  "  will 
take  you  from  Boston  to  San  Francisco  for 
fifty-five  dollars.  But  in  this  case  the  beds  are 
hard,  and  you  provide  your  own  meals.  Some 
try  the  long  voyage,  twenty-three"  days  from 
New  York  to  San  Francisco.  It  is  considered 
monotonous  and  undesirable  by  some ;  others, 
equally  good  judges,  prefer  it  decidedly. 

I  believe  in  taking  along  a  loose  wrapper  to 
wear  in  the  cars,  especially  when  crossing  the 
desert.  It  greatly  lessens  fatigue  to  be  able  to 
curl  up  cosily  in  a  corner  and  go  to  sleep,  with  a 
silk  travelling  hat  or  a  long  veil  on  one's  head, 


a  Urutbful  iRHoman, 


and  the  stiff  bonnet  or  big  hat  with  showy 
plumes  nicely  covered  in  its  long  purse-like 
bag,  and  hanging  on  a  hook  above.  The  sand 
and  alkali  ruin  everything,  and  are  apt  to  in- 
flame the  eyes  and  nose.  I  find  a  hamper 
with  strap  indispensable  on  the  train ;  it  will 
hold  as  much  as  a  small  trunk,  yet  it  can  be 
easily  carried. 

Now  imagine  you  have  arrived,  very  tired, 
and  probably  with  a  cold  in  your  head,  for  the 
close  heated  cars  and  the  sudden  changes  of 
climate  are  trying.  You  may  be  at  The  Ray- 
mond, and  "personally  conducted."  Nothing 
can  be  better  than  that.  But  if  you  are  alone 
at  Los  Angeles,  or  San  Francisco,  come  straight 
down  to  Coronado  Beach,  and  begin  at  the  be- 
ginning— or  the  end,  as  you  may  think  it. 


CHAPTER    II. 


AT    CORONADO    BEACH. 


ASSOCIATE  Coronado  Beach  so 
closely  with  Warner  (Charles  D.),  the 
cultured  and  cosmopolitan,  that  every 
wave  seems  to  murmur  his  name,  and  the 
immense  hotel  lives  and  flourishes  under  the 
magic  of  his  rhetoric  and  commendation.  Just 
as  Philadelphia  is  to  me  Wanamakerville  and 
Terrapin,  so  Coronado  Beach  is  permeated  and 
lastingly  magnetized  by  Warner's  sojourn  here 
and  what  he  "  was  saying." 

But  I  must  venture  to  find  fault  with  his 
million-times-quoted  adjective  "  unique  "  as  it  is 
used.  It  has  been  stamped  on  stationery  and 
menu  cards,  and  has  gone  the  world  over  in  his 
volume  "  Our  Italy,"  and  no  one  ever  visits 
this  spot  who  has  not  made  the  phrase  his 
7 


8  H  xrrutbtul  Momaiu 

own.  To  me  it  deserves  a  stronger  word,  or 
series  of  words.  We  say  a  pretty  girl  has  a 
"  unique "  way  of  dressing  licr  liair,  or  an 
author  a  "  unique "  way  of  putting  things. 

But  as  I  look  out  of  my  window  this  glorious 
morning,  and  watch  the  triple  line  of  foaming 
waves  breaking  on  the  long  beach,  a  silver 
sickle  in  the  sunshine ;  the  broad  expanse  of 
the  Pacific,  with  distant  sails  looking  like  but- 
terflies apoise ;  Point  Loma  grandly  guarding 
the  right,  and  farther  back  the  mountain  view, 
where  snowy  peaks  can  just  be  discerned  over 
the  nearer  ranges ;  the  quiet  beauty  of  the 
grounds  below,  where  borders  and  ovals  and 
beds  of  marguerites  contrast  prettily  with  long 
lines  and  curves  of  the  briUiant  marigolds ; 
grass,  trees,  and  hedges  green  as  June — a  view 
which  embraces  the  palm  and  the  pine,  the 
ocean  and  lofty  mountains,  cultivated  gardens 
and  rocky  wastes,  as  I  see  all  this,  I  for  one 
moment  forget  "  unique  "  and  exclaim,  "  How 
bold,  magnificent,  and  unrivalled!"  Give  me 
a  new  and  fitting  adjective  to  describe  what 
I  see.     Our  best  descriptive  adjectives  are  so 


Ht  CoronaC)o  Beacb. 


recklessly  used  in  daily  life  over  minute  mat- 
ters, that  absolutely  nothing  is  left  for  this  rare 
combination. 

As  a  daughter  of  New  Hampshire  in  this 
farthest  corner  of  the  southwest,  my  mind 
crosses  the  continent  to  the  remote  northeast 
and  the  great  Stone  Face  of  the  Franconia 
Mountains.  Chiselled  by  an  Almighty  hand, 
its  rugged  brow  seamed  by  the  centuries,  its 
features  scarred  by  the  storms  of  ages,  gazing 
out  over  the  broad  land,  where  centre  the 
hopes  of  the  human  race,  who  can  forget  that 
face,  sad  with  the  mysteries  of  pain  and  sor- 
row, yet  inspiring  with  its  rugged  determina- 
tion, and  at  times  softened  with  the  touch  of 
sunlit  hope? 

Point  Loma  has  something  of  the  same  .sphinx- 
like grandeur,  with  its  long  bold  promontory 
stretching  out  into  the  Vv'cstern  waters.  These 
two  seem  to  be  keeping  watch  and  ward  over 
mountain  and  sea:  each  appropriate  in  its 
place  and  equally  impressive.  There  the  stern 
prophet  surveying  the  home  of  great  begin- 
nings, the  cradle  of  creative  energy  ;   and  here, 


lo  H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

its  counterpart,  a  mighty  recumbent  lion,  its 
dreamy,  peaceful  gaze  turned  with  confidence 
out  over  the  wide  Pacific  to  the  setting  sun, 
with  assurance  of  ultimate  success,  a  pledge  of 
aspirations  satisfied,  of  achievements  assured, 
of Whoa  there!  Hello!  This  to  my  run- 
away steeds,  Imagination  and  Sentiment. 
Brought  back  by  a  passing  bell-boy,  I  shall  now 
keep  a  tighter  rein. 

But  when  one  first  breathes  the  air  of  Cali- 
fornia, there  is  a  curious  exaltation  and  excite- 
ment, which  leads  on  irresistibly.  This  is  often 
followed  by  a  natural  depression,  sleepiness, 
and  reaction.  But  that  view  never  changes, 
and  I  know  you  will  say  the  same.  A  florid, 
effervescent,  rhapsodical  style  seems  irresistible. 
One  man  of  uncommon  business  abihty  and 
particularly  level  head  caught  the  spirit  of  the 
place,  and  wrote  that  "  the  most  practical  and 
unpoetical  minds,  too,  come  here  and  go  away, 
as  they  afterward  gingerly  admit,  carrying  with 
them  the  memory  of  sunsets  emblazoned  in  gold 
and  crimson  upon  cloud,  sea,  and  mountain ; 
of  violet  promontories,  sails,  and   lighthouses 


Ht  Coronabo  3Beacb. 


etched  against  the  orange  of  a  western  sky ;  of 
moonhght  silvering  breeze-rippled  breadths  of 
liquid  blue ;  of  distant  islands  shimmering 
in  sun-lit  haze ;  of  sunrises  with  crowns  of 
glory  chasing  the  vapory,  fleece-hke  shadows 
from  the  wet,  irridescent  beach,  and  silhouetting 
the  fishermen's  sails  in  the  opalescent  tints  of  a 
glassy  sea." 

Some  temperaments  may  not  be  affected 
at  all.  But  the  first  morning  I  felt  like  leap- 
ing a  five-barred  fence,  and  the  next  like  lying 
down  anywhere  and  sleeping  indefinitely.  I 
met  a  distinguished  Boston  artist  recently,  who 
had  just  arrived.  The  day  was  superb.  He 
seemed  in  a  semi-delirium  of  ecstasy  over  every- 
thing. His  face  glowed,  his  eyes  shone,  his 
hands  were  full  of  flowers.  He  said,  "  My 
heart  jumps  so  I'm  really  afraid  it  will  jump 
out  of  my  body."  The  next  morning  he  was 
wholly  subdued.  It  had  poured  all  night,  and 
the  contrast  was  depressing.  A  six-footer  from 
Albany  was  in  the  sleepy  state.  "  If  I  don't 
pull  out  soon,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  be  bedridden. 
I  want  to  sleep  after  breakfast,  or  bowling,  or 


H  Urutbtul  Moman, 


bath,  or  my  ride  or  dinner,  and  really  long  to 
go  to  bed  by  nine." 

There  has  probably  been  more  fine  writing 
and  florid  rhetoric  about  California  than  any 
other  State  in  the  Union. 

The  Hotel  del  Coronado  is  a  mammoth  hos- 
telry, yet  homelike  in  every  part,  built  in  a 
rectangle  with  inner  court,  adorned  with  trees, 
flowers,  vines,  and  a  fountain  encircled  by  cal- 
las ;  color,  pure  white,  roofs  and  chimneys  red ; 
prevailing  woods,  oak,  ash,  pine,  and  redwood. 
All  around  the  inner  court  a  series  of  suites 
of  rooms,  each  with  its  own  bath  and  corner 
sitting-room — literally  "  a  linked  suiteness  long 
drawn  out."  It  is  one  eighth  of  a  mile  from 
my  bedroom  to  my  seat  in  the  dining-room,  so 
that  lazy  people  are  obliged  to  take  daily  con- 
stitutionals whether  they  want  to  or  not,  sigh- 
ing midway  for  trolley  accommodations.  The 
dining-room  may  safely  be  called  roomy,  as 
it  seats  a  thousand  guests,  and  your  dearest 
friends  could  not  be  recognized  at  the  extreme 
end.  Yet  there  is  no  dreary  stretch  or  cara- 
vansary effect,  and  to-day  every  seat  is  filled, 
and  a  dozen  tourists  waiting  at  the  door. 


Ht  Corona&o  Beacb.  13 

Every  recreation  of  city  or  country  is  found 
in  this  little  world :  thirty  billiard-tables,  pool, 
bowling,  tennis,  polo,  bathing  (where  bucking 
barrel-horses  and  toboggan  slides,  fat  men  who 
produce  tidal  waves,  and  tiny  boys  who  do  the 
heroic  as  sliders  and  divers,  make  fun  for  the 
spectators),  hunting,  fishing,  yachting,  rowing, 
riding  to  hounds,  rabbit  hunts,  pigeon  shoot, 
shooting-galleries,  driving,  coaching,  cards, 
theatre,  ballroom,  lectures,  minstrels,  exhibi- 
tions of  the  Mammoth  and  Minute  from  Yo- 
semite  with  the  stereopticon,  to  Pacific  sea- 
mosses,  the  ostrich  farm,  the  museum  or  maze 
for  a  morning  hour,  dressing  or  undressing  for 
evening  display,  watching  the  collection  of 
human  beings  who  throng  everywhere  with 
a  critical  or  humorous  eye,  finding  as  much 
variety  as  on  Broadway  or  Tremont  Street ; 
dancing-classes  for  children  ;  a  chaperon  and  a 
master  of  ceremonies  for  gi-own  folks ;  a  walk 
or  drive  twelve  miles  long  on  a  smooth  beach 
at  low  tide,  not  forgetting  the  "  dark  room  "  for 
kodak  and  camera  f — amateurs. 

You  see  many  athletic,  fine-looking  men, 
who  ride   daringly  and  ride  to  kill.     Once  a 


14  H  XTrutbtul  Moman. 

week  the  centre  of  the  office  is  filled  with  game  : 
rabbits,  quail,  snipe,  ducks,  etc.,  everything  here 
— but  an  undertaker.  And  old  Ocean  eternally 
booming  (the  only  permanent  boom  I  know  of 
in  Southern  California). 

And  that  is  what  you  see  and  hear  at  the  Hotel 
del  Coronado.  The  summer  climate  is  better 
than  the  winter — never  too  warm  for  comfort, 
the  mercury  never  moving  for  weeks.  I  ex- 
pected constant  sunshine,  a  succession  of  June's 
fairest  days,  which  would  have  been  monoto- 
nous, to  say  nothing  of  the  effect  upon  crops  and 
orchards.  The  rainy  season  is  necessary  and 
a  blessing  to  the  land-owners,  hard  as  it  is  for 
"  lungers  "  and  the  nervous  invalids  who  only 
feel  well  on  fine  days  and  complain  unreason- 
ably. 

Ten  inches  is  the  average  needed  just  here. 
Rain  is  rainy  and  wet  weather  is  wet,  but  the 
ground  dries  as  soon  as  the  pelting  shower  is 
over.  I  do  not  find  the  raw,  searching  damp- 
ness of  our  Eastern  seashore  resorts.  Here  we 
are  said  to  have  "  dry  fogs  "  and  an  ideal  marine 
atmosphere,  but  it  was   too  cold  for  comfort 


Ht  Corona^o  3Beacb,  15 

during  the  March  rains  for  those  not  in  robust 
health. 

As  I  sit  in  the  upper  gallery  and  watch  the 
throng  issuing  from  the  dining-room,  I  make  a 
nice  and  unerring  social  distinction  between  the 
Toothpick  Brigade  who  leave  the  table  with  the 
final  mouthful  semi-masticated,  and  those  who 
have  an  air  of  finished  contentment. 

The  orchestra  is  unusually  good,gi\dng  choice 
selections  admirably  executed.  I  have  not  de- 
cided whether  music  at  meals  is  a  blessing  or 
otherwise.  If  sad,  it  seems  a  mockery;  if  gay, 
an  inteiTuption.  For  one  extremely  sensi- 
tive to  time  and  tune  it  is  difficult  to  eat  to 
slow  measures.  And  when  the  steak  is  tough 
and  a  galop  is  going  on  above,  it  is  hard  to 
keep  up. 

Among  the  many  fleeting  impressions  of 
faces  and  friends  here,  one  or  two  stand  out 
clearly  and  indehbly — stars  of  the  first  magni- 
tude in  the  nebulae — as  dear  Grandma  Wade 
from  Chicago,  the  most  attractive  old  lady  I 
ever  met :  eighty-three  years  old,  with  a  firm 
step,  rotund  figure,  and  sweet,  unruffled  face. 


i6  a  xrrutbful  Momatu 

crowned  with  the  softest  snow-white  curls,  on 
which  rests  an  artistic  cap  trimmed  with  rib- 
bons of  blue  or  delicate  heliotrope,  and  small 
artificial  flowers  to  match.  I  have  known  sev- 
eral interesting  octogenarians,  but  never  one 
that  surpassed  her  in  lovehness,  wit,  and  posi- 
tive jollity.  Her  spontaneous  fun  is  better  than 
the  labored  efforts  of  many  a  famous  humorist. 

She  still  has  her  ardent  admirers  among  men 
as  well  as  women,  and  now  and  then  receives  an 
earnest  proposal  from  some  lonely  old  fellow. 

The  last  of  these  aged  lovers,  when  refused 
and  relegated  to  the  position  of  a  brother,  urged 
her  to  reconsider  this  important  matter,  making 
it  a  subject  of  prayer.  But  she  quietly  said, 
"I'm  not  going  to  bother  the  Lord  with  ques- 
tions I  can  answer  myself."  When  choked  by 
a  bread-crumb  at  table,  she  said  to  the  fright- 
ened waiter,  as  soon  as  .she  had  regained  her 
breath,  "  Never  mind,  if  that  did  go  down  the 
wrong  way,  a  great  many  good  things  have 
gone  down  the  right  way  this  winter." 

She  is  invariably  cheerful,  and  when  parting 
with   her  son  for  the  winter  .she  .said,  "  Well, 


at  CoronaOo  Beacb.  17 

John,  I  want  to  know  before  I  go  just  what 
you  have  left  me  in  your  will!"  which  little 
joke  changed  a  tear  into  a  smile. 

Even  when  ill  she  is  still  bright  and  hopeful, 
so  that  a  friend  exclaimed,  "  Grandma,  I  do 
beheve  you  would  laugh  if  you  were  dying;" 
and  she  replied,  "  Well,  so  many  folks  go  to  the 
Lord  with  a  long  face,  I  guess  He  will  be  glad 
to  see  one  come  in  smiling." 

Oh,  how  repulsive  the  artificial  bloom,  the 
cosmetics  and  hair-dyes  which  make  old  age 
a  horror,  compared  with  her  natural  beauty! 
God  bless  and  keep  dear  Grandma  Wade! 

Little  "  Ted  "  is  another  character  and  favor- 
ite, and  his  letter  to  his  nurse  in  New  York  gives 
a  good  idea  of  how  the  place  affects  a  bright, 
impressionable  child. 

"  My  dear  Julia  :  //  is  a  dummy  fiear  the 
Jiotel  and  it  takes  Jive  days  to  come  here  and  there 
is  an  ishmd  right  beyond  the  boat  house  and  they 
have  a  pigeon  shoot  every  7vcek.  And  there  is 
six  hundred  people  here  Julia,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  came  yesterday. 


i8  H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

^*  There  is  a  moiintin  across  the  river  and  a 
house  very  far  aivay  by  itself,  Julia.  I  flay  in 
the  sand  every  day  of  my  life,  and  I  take  swim- 
ming lessons  and  I  have  two  oranges.  Califor- 
nia is  the  biggest  world  in  the  countiy  and  there 
is  a  tree  very,  very  far  away.  Julia  it  is  a  puz- 
zle walk  near  the  hotel,  Rose  and  me  weiit  all 
through  it  and  Julia,  tve  got  our  tvay  out  easy." 

He  has  it  all.  All  the  trees  are  cultivated 
here,  so  I  looked  round  for  the  one  Ted  spoke 
of,  and  find  it  lights  up  at  night  and  revolves 
for  the  aid  of  the  mariners.  I  think  that  all 
Cahfornians  echo  his  sentiment  that  "  Califor- 
nia is  the  biggest  world  in  the  country  "  ;  and 
compared  with  the  hard  work  of  the  New  Eng- 
land farmers,  what  is  the  cultivation  of  orchards 
but  playing  in  the  sand  with  golden  oranges? 
Some  one  says  that  Californians  "  irrigate,  culti- 
vate, and  exaggerate." 

Charles  Nordhoff,  the  veteran  journalist  and 
author,  lives  within  sight  of  the  hotel  (which 
he  pronounces  the  most  perfect  and  charming 
hotel  he  knows  of  in  Europe  or  America),  in  a 


Ht  Corona^o  Beacb,  19 

rambling  bungalow  consisting  of  three  small 
cottages  moved  from  different  points  and  made 
into  one.  He  believes  in  California  for  "  health, 
pleasure,  and  residence."  It  is  a  rare  privilege 
to  listen  to  his  conversation,  sitting  by  his  open 
fire  or  at  his  library  table,  or  when  he  is  enter- 
taining friends  at  dinner. 

So  ends  my  sketch  of  Coronado.  Coronado! 
What  a  perfect  word!  INIusical,  euphonious, 
regal,  "  the  crowned  "!  The  name  of  the  gov- 
ernor of  New  Galicia,  and  captain-general  of 
the  Spanish  army,  sent  forth  in  1540  in  search 
of  the  seven  cities  of  Cibola.  General  J.  H. 
Simpson,  U.  S.  A.,  has  witten  a  valuable  mono- 
graph on  "  Coronado's  March,"  which  can  be 
found  in  the  Smithsonian  Report  for  1869. 

I  intend  to  avoid  statistics  and  history  on 
the  one  side,  and  extravagant  eulogy  on  the 
other. 

Now  we  will  say  good-by  to  our  new  friends, 
take  one  more  look  at  Point  Loma,  and  cross 
the  ferry  to  San  Diego. 


CHAPTER   III. 

SAN    DIEGO. 

"  The  truly  magnificent,  and — with  reason — famous 
port  of  San  Diego." — From  the  Jirst  letter  of  Father 
Junipero  in  Alto  California. 


IFTEEN  cents  for  motor,  ferry,  and 
IS  rPI  car  will  take  vou  to  Hotel  Florence, 
on  the  heights  overlooking  the  bay, 
where  I  advise  you  to  stop.  The  Horton 
House  is  on  an  open,  sunny  site,  and  is  fre- 
quented by  "  transients  "  and  business  men  of 
moderate  means.  The  Brewster  is  a  first-class 
hotel,  with  excellent  table.  The  Florence  is  not 
a  large  boarding-house  or  family  hotel,  but  open 
for  all.  It  has  a  friendly,  homehke  atmosphere, 
without  the  exactions  of  an  ultra-fashionable 
resort.  The  maximum  January  temperature  is 
seventy-four  degrees,  while  that  of  July  is  sev- 
enty-nine degrees,  and  invalid  guests  at  this 
house  wear  the  same  weight  clothing  in  sum- 


San  WiCQO.  21 

mer  that  they  do  in  winter.  The  rooms  of  this 
house  are  all  sunny,  and  each  has  a  charming 
ocean  or  mountain  view.  It  is  easy  to  get 
there ;  hard  to  go  away.  Arriving  from  Cor- 
onado  Beach,  I  was  reminded  of  the  French- 
man who  married  a  quiet  little  home  body  after 
a  desperate  flirtation  with  a  briUiant  society 
queen  full  of  tyrannical  whims  and  capricious 
demands.  When  this  was  commented  on  as 
surprising,  he  explained  that  after  playing  with 
a  squirrel  one  likes  to  take  a  cat  in  his  lap. 
Really,  it  is  so  restful  that  the  building  suggests 
a  big  yellow  tabby  purring  sleepily  in  the  sun- 
shine. I  sat  on  the  veranda,  or  piazza,  taking 
a  sun-bath,  in  a  happy  dream  or  doze,  until 
the  condition  of  nirvana  was  almost  attained. 
What  day  of  the  week  was  it?  And  the  season? 
Who  could  tell?  And  who  cares?  Certainly 
no  one  has  the  energy  to  decide  it.  Last  year, 
going  there  to  spend  one  day,  I  remained  for 
five  weeks,  hypnotized  by  my  environments — 
beguiled,  deluded,  unconscious  of  the  flight  of 
time,  serenely  happy.  Many  come  for  a  sea- 
son, and  wake  up  after  five  or  six  years  to  find 


2  2  H  XTrutbful  Momau. 


it  is  now  their  home.  "  There  seems  to  exist 
in  this  country  a  something  which  cheats  the 
senses ;  whether  it  be  in  the  air,  the  sunshine, 
or  in  the  ocean  breeze,  or  in  all  three  com- 
bined, I  cannot  say.  Certainly  the  climate  is 
not  the  home-made  common-sense  article  of 
the  anti-Rocky  Mountain  States;  and  unreality 
is  thrown  round  life — all  walk  and  work  in  a 
dream." 

At  Coronado  Beach  one  rushes  out  after 
breakfast  for  an  all-day  excursion  or  morning 
tramp  ;  here  one  sits  and  sits,  always  intending 
to  go  somewhere  or  do  something,  until  the 
pile  of  unanswered  letters  accumulates  and  the 
projected  trips  weary  one  in  a  dim  perspective. 
It  is  all  so  beautiful,  so  new,  so  wonderful! 
San  Diego  is  the  Naples  of  America,  with  the 
San  Jacinto  Mountains  for  a  background  and 
the  blue  sunlit  bay  to  gaze  upon,  and  one  of 
the  finest  harbors  in  the  world.  Yet  with  all 
this,  few  have  the  energy  even  to  go  a-fishing. 

Now,  as  a  truthful  "  tourist,"  1  must  admit 
that  in  the  winter  there  are  many  days  when 
the  sun  does  not  shine,  and  the  rainy  season  is 


San  MCQO.  23 

not  altogether  cheerful  for  the  in^'alid  and  the 
stranger.  Sunshine,  glorious  golden  sunshine, 
is  what  we  want  all  the  time ;  but  x^e  do  not 
get  it.  I  noticed  that  during  the  heavy  rains 
the  invalids  retired  to  their  rooms,  overcome 
by  the  chill  and  dampness,  and  some  were 
seriously  ill.  But  then  they  would  have  been 
in  their  graves  if  they  had  remained  in  the 
East.  There  are  many  charming  people  resid- 
ing in  San  Diego,  well,  happy,  useful,  who 
know  they  can  never  safely  return  to  their  old 
homes. 

There  has  been  such  a  rosy  glamour  thrown 
over  southern  Cahfornia  by  enthusiastic  ro- 
mancers that  many  are  disappointed  when  they 
fail  to  find  an  absolute  Paradise. 

Humboldt  said  of  Cahfornia :  "  The  sky  is 
constantly  serene  and  of  a  deep  blue,  and  with- 
out a  cloud ;  and  should  any  clouds  appear  for 
a  moment  at  the  setting  of  the  sun,  they  display 
the  most  beautiful  shades  of  violet,  purple,  and 
green." * 

*  Humboldt  had  never  been  in  Alta  California,  and 
procured  this  information  in  Mexico  or  Spain. 


24  H  XTrutbtul  Moman. 

Now,  after  reading  that,  a  real  rainy  day, 
when  the  water  leaks  through  the  roof  and 
beats  in  at  the  doors,  makes  a  depressed  invahd 
feel  like  a  drenched  fowl  standing  forlornly  on 
one  leg  in  the  midst  of  a  New  England  storm. 
With  snow-covered  mountains  on  one  side  and 
the  ocean  with  its  heavy  fogs  on  the  other,  and 
the  tedious  rain  pouring  down  with  gloomy 
persistence,  and  consumptives  coughing  vio- 
lently, and  physicians  hurrying  in  to  attend  to 
a  sudden  hemoiThage  or  heart-failure,  the  scene 
is  not  wholly  gay  and  inspiriting.  But  when 
the  sun  comes  forth  again  and  the  flowers  (that 
look  to  me  a  little  tired  of  blooming  all  the 
time)  brighten  up  with  fresh  washed  faces,  and 
all  vegetation  rejoices  and  you  can  almost  see 
things  grow,  and  the  waves  dance  and  glitter, 
and  the  mountains  no  longer  look  cold  and 
threatening  but  seem  like  painted  scenery,  a  la 
Bierstadt,  hung  up  for  our  admiration,  and  the 
valleys  breathe  the  spicy  fragrance  of  orange 
blossoms,  we  are  once  more  happy,  and  ready 
to  rave  a  little  ourselves  over  the  much-talked- 
of  "bay'n'  climate."     But  there   are  dangers 


San  WiCQO,  25 

even  on  the  sunniest  day.  I  know  a  young 
physician  who  came  this  year  on  a  semi-profes- 
sional tour,  to  try  the  effects  of  inhalations  on 
tuberculosis,  and  it  was  so  delightfully  warm 
that  he  straightway  took  off  his  flannels,  was 
careless  about  night  air,  and  was  down  with 
pneumonia. 

The  tourist  or  traveller  who  ^vrites  of  San 
Diego  usually  knows  nothing  of  it  but  a  week 
or  two  in  winter  or  early  spring. 

Southern  California  has  fifty-two  weeks  in 
the  year,  and  for  two  thirds  of  this  time  the 
weather  is  superb. 

I  can  imagine  even  a  mission  Indian  grunt- 
ing and  complaining  if  taken  to  our  part  of  the 
country  in  the  midst  of  a  week's  storm.  We 
flee  from  deadly  horrors  of  climate  to  be  fas- 
tidiously critical.  If,  in  midsummer,  sweltering 
sufferers  in  New  York  or  Chicago  could  be 
transported  to  this  land  they  would  not  hurry 
away.  The  heat  is  rarely  above  eighty-five 
degrees,  and  nearly  always  mitigated  by  a  re- 
freshing breeze  from  the  bay.  I  am  assured 
that  there  have  not  been  five  nights  in  as  many 
3 


26  H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

years  when  one  or  more  blankets  have  not  been 
necessary  for  comfort.  In  summer  everything 
is  serene.  No  rain,  no  thunder-storms,  no  hail, 
or  water-spouts.  (The  dust  pest  is  never  spoken 
of!)  The  picnic  can  be  arranged  three  weeks 
ahead  without  an  anxious  thought  about  the 
weather.  The  summer  sunsets  are  marvellously 
beautiful. 

One  must  summer  and  winter  here  before 
he  can  judge  fairly,  and  the  hyper-sensitive 
should  tarry  in  New  Mexico  or  in  the  desert 
until  spring.  I  believe  that  rheumatic  or  neu- 
ralgic invalids  should  avoid  the  damp  resorts 
to  which  they  are  constantly  flocking  only  to 
be  dissatisfied.  Every  sort  of  climate  can  be 
found  in  the  State,  so  that  no  one  has  the  right 
to  grumble. 

Do  not  take  off  flannels,  although  the  per- 
spiration does  trickle  down  the  side  of  your 
face  as  you  sit  in  the  sun.  A  fur  cape  is  always 
needed  to  protect  one  shoulder  from  a  chilling 
breeze  while  the  other  side  is  toasted.  It  is  not 
safe  for  new-comers  to  be  out-of-doors  after 
four  or  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  nor  must 


San  WiCQO,  27 

they  ride  in  open  cars  except  in  the  middle  of 
the  day.  These  innocent  diversions  give  the 
doctors  their  support. 

Bill  Nye,  with  his  usual  good  sense,  refused 
to  drive  in  a  pouring  rain  to  view  the  scenery 
and  orchards  when  visiting  San  Diego  in  March, 
and  says :  "  Orange  orchards  are  rare  and 
beautiful  sights,  but  when  I  can  sit  in  this  warm 
room,  gathered  about  a  big  coal  fire,  and  see 
miles  of  them  from  the  window,  why  should 
I  put  on  my  fur  overcoat  and  a  mackintosh 
in  order  to  freeze  and  cry  out  with  assumed 
delight  every  half-mile  while  I  gradually  get 
Pomona  of  the  lungs?  " 

There  are  many  places  worth  visiting  if  you 
can  rouse  yourselves  for  the  effort.  Point 
Loma,  twelve  miles  distant,  gives  a  wonderful 
view,  one  of  the  finest  in  the  world.  I  warrant 
you  will  be  so  famished  on  arriving  that  you 
will  empty  every  lunch-basket  before  attending 
to  the  outlook.  National  City,  Sweet  Water 
Dam,  Tia  Juana  (Aunt  Jane),  La  Jolla — you 
will  hear  of  all  these.  I  have  tried  them  and 
will  report. 


28  a  xrrutbtul  moman. 

The  Kimball  brothers,  Warren  and  Frank, 
who  came  from  New  Hampshire  twenty-five 
years  ago  and  devoted  their  energies  to  plant- 
ing orchards  of  oranges,  lemons,  and  olives, 
have  made  the  desert  bloom,  and  found  the 
business  most  profitable.  You  will  like  to 
watch  the  processes  of  pickling  olives  and 
pressing  out  the  clear  amber  oil,  which  is  now 
used  by  consumptives  in  preference  to  the  cod- 
liver  oil.  Many  are  rubbed  Vv'ith  it  daily  for 
increasing  flesh.  It  is  delicious  for  the  table, 
but  the  profits  are  small,  as  cotton-seed  oil 
is  much  cheaper.  Lemons  pay  better  than 
oranges,  Mr.  Kimball  tells  me.  Mrs.  Flora 
Kimball  has  worked  side  by  side  with  her  hus- 
band, who  is  an  enthusiast  for  the  rights  of 
woman.  She  is  progressive,  and  ready  to  help 
in  every  good  work,  with  great  executive  ability 
and  a  hearty  appreciation  of  any  good  quality 
in  others. 

It  does  not  pay  to  take  the  trip  to  Mexico 
if  time  is  limited,  there  is  so  little  of  Mexico  in 
it.  After  leaving  the  train  and  getting  into  an 
omnibus,  the  voluble   darkey  in  charge  soon 


San  WiCQO*  29 

shouts  out,  "  We  are  now  crossing  the  Hne," 
but  as  no  difference  of  scene  is  observed,  it  is 
not  deeply  impressive.  One  young  fellow  got 
out  and  jumped  back  and  forth  over  the  line, 
so  that  if  asked  on  his  return  if  he  had  been  to 
Mexico  he  could  conscientiously  answer,  "  Oh 
yes,  many  times."  We  were  then  taken  to  the 
custom-house,  where  we  mailed  some  hastily 
scribbled  letters  for  the  sake  of  using  a  Mexi- 
can stamp, — some  preferred  it  stamped  c^  a 
handkerchief.  And  near  by  is  the  curio  store, 
where  you  find  the  same  things  which  are  seen 
everywhere,  and  where  you  will  doubtless  buy 
a  lot  of  stuff  and  be  sorry  for  it.  But  whatever 
other  folly  you  may  be  led  into,  let  me  implore 
you  to  wholly  abstain  from  that  deadly  concoc- 
tion, the  Mexican  ta)nale.  Ugh!  I  can  taste 
mine  now. 

A  tamale  is  a  curious  and  dubious  combina- 
tion of  chicken  hash,  meal,  olives,  red  pepper, 
and  I  know  not  what,  enclosed  in  a  corn-husk, 
steamed  until  furiously  hot,  and  then  offered 
for  sale  by  Mexicans  in  such  a  sweet,  appeahng 
way  that  few  can  resist  the  novelty.     It  has  a 


30  H  Urutbtul  Moman, 

more  uncertain  pedigree  than  the  sausage,  and 
its  effects  are  serious. 

A  friend  of  mine  tasted  a  small  portion  of 
one  late  at  night.  It  was  later  before  she  could 
sleep,  and  then  terrible  nightmares  intruded 
upon  her  slumber.  Next  morning  she  looked 
so  ill  and  enfeebled,  so  unlike  her  rosy  self,  that 
we  begged  to  know  the  cause.  The  tale  was 
thriUing.  She  thought  a  civil  war  had  broken 
out  and  she  could  not  telegraph  to  her  distant 
spouse.  The  agony  was  intense.  She  must 
go  to  him  with  her  five  children,  and  at  once. 
They  climbed  mountains,  tumbled  into  cafions, 
were  arrested  in  their  progress  by  cataracts 
and  wild  storms,  and  even  the  hostile  Indian 
appeared  in  full  war-paint  at  a  point  above. 
This  awoke  her,  only  to  fall  into  another  horri- 
ble situation.  An  old  lover  suddenly  returned, 
tried  to  approach  her ;  she  screamed,  "  I  am 
now  a  married  woman ! " — he  lifted  his  revolver, 
and  once  again  she  returned  to  consciousness 
and  the  tamak,  and  brandy,  and  Brown's  Ja- 
maica ginger.  If  she  had  eaten  half  the  tamale 
the  pistol  would  doubtless  have  completed  its 


San  Dieao.  3» 

deadly  work.  A  kind  old  gentleman  of  our 
party  bought  a  dozen  to  treat  us  all.  We  were 
obliged  to  refuse,  and  it  was  amusing  to  watch 
him  in  his  endeavor  to  get  rid  of  them.  At 
last  he  made  several  journeys  to  the  car  door, 
throwing  out  a  few  each  trip  in  a  solemn  way. 
He  didn't  want  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  the 
natives  by  casting  them  all  out  at  once. 

Sweet  Water  Dam  is  a  triumph  of  engineer- 
ing, one  of  the  largest  dams  in  the  world,  hold- 
ing six  million  gallons  of  water,  used  for  irri- 
gating ranches  in  Sweet  Water  Valley ;  and  at 
La  JoUa  you  will  find  pretty  shells  and  clamber 
down  to  the  caves.  There  the  stones  are  slip- 
pery, and  an  absorbing  flirtation  should  be 
resisted,  as  the  tide  often  intrudes  most  unex- 
pectedly, and  in  dangerous  haste.  Besides  the 
caves  the  attractions  are  the  fishing  and  the 
kelp  beds.  These  kelp  beds  form  a  submarine 
garden,  and  the  water  is  so  clear  that  one  can 
see  beautiful  plants,  fish,  etc,  at  forty  or  fifty 
feet  below  the  sea  surface — not  unlike  the  fa- 
mous sea-gardens  at  Nassau  in  the  Bahamas, 
There  is  a  good  hotel,  open  the  year  round. 


32  H  Xrrutbful  Momau. 

Lakeside  is  a  quiet  inland  retreat  twenty-two 
miles  from  San  Diego,  where  many  go  for  a 
little  excursion  and  change  of  air.  The  Lake- 
side Hotel  has  seventy  large  rooms  and  com- 
plete appointments.  The  table  is  supplied  with 
plenty  of  milk  and  r<:al  cream  from  their  own 
cows,  vegetables  and  fruit  from  the  neighboring 
ranches,  game  in  its  season,  shot  on  the  lake 
near  by,  and,  in  the  valleys,  meats  from  home- 
grown stock.  The  guests  who  are  not  too 
invalidish  often  go  out  for  long  drives,  never 
forgetting  the  lunch-baskets.  One  day  we  tiy 
the  Alpine  stage.  Winding  across  the  mesa  at 
the  rear  of  the  hotel,  we  have  a  lovely  view  of 
the  little  lake  half  hidden  in  the  trees,  reflecting 
in  its  quiet  surface  the  mountains  that  rise  up 
beyond  it.  Gradually  climbing  upward,  we 
come  to  a  tract  of  land  that  is  watered  by  the 
Flume.  To  our  surprise  we  learn  that  this  is 
practically  frostless,  and  that  since  this  has  been 
discovered  many  young  orchards  of  oranges 
and  lemons  have  been  planted.  The  red  mesa 
land  on  the  side-hills  will  not  be  touched  by 
the  frosts  of  a  cold  night  when  the  valley  at 


San  Bie^o.  33 

its  foot  will  have  enough  frost  to  kill  all  tender 
growth.  This  is  a  new  discovery,  and  has 
placed  thousands  of  acres  on  the  market  as 
suitable  for  the  culture  of  citrus  fruits.  Do 
you  notice  how  the  appearance  of  the  land- 
scape is  changing?  The  nearer  hills  are  much 
sharper  and  steeper,  and  their  sides  are  studded 
by  great  boulders.  There  are  stone  walls,  and 
here  and  there  are  great  flocks  of  sheep.  The 
horses  stop  of  their  own  accord  at  a  lovely 
spot  where  they  are  used  to  getting  a  drink  of 
cool  spring  water.  Did  any  ever  taste  quite 
so  good  as  that  drunk  from  an  old  dipper  after 
a  long  warm  drive?  The  hve-oaks  and  syca- 
mores look  too  inviting  to  be  resisted,  and  we 
get  out  to  explore  while  the  horses  are  resting. 
Underneath  the  evergreen  shade  we  pick  up 
some  of  the  large  pointed  acorns  and  cany 
them  away  as  souvenirs.  This  would  be  a  de- 
lightful spot  for  a  picnic,  but  we  have  many 
miles  before  us  and  must  go  on.  In  a  few 
more  miles  we  reach  a  little  town  known  as 
"Alpine."  In  the  distance  looms  the  Viejas, 
and  if  any  of  the  party  wish  to  travel  over  a 


34  H  trrutbtul  Moman* 

grade,  now  is  the  opportunity.  The  top  of  the 
grade  brings  us  to  a  lovely  view.  Eastward  is 
an  unbroken  chain  of  mountain-peaks,  from 
whose  summits  may  be  seen  the  broad  Pacific 
on  one  side  and  the  Colorado  Desert  on  the 
other. 

One  of  the  favorite  drives  is  into  the  Monte. 
This  is  a  large  park  or  tract  of  a  thousand 
acres.  On  each  side  the  hills  rise,  and  in  front 
El  Cajon  shows  new  beauties  with  every  step 
of  the  way.  Great  live-oaks  with  enormous 
trunks,  ancient  sycamores,  elders,  and  willows 
make  in  some  spots  a  dense  shade.  On  the 
edge  of  the  hillsides  the  Flume  may  be  seen, 
which  furnishes  many  ranches  as  well  as  the 
city  of  San  Diego  with  the  purest  mountain 
water.  Underneath  the  trees  and  up  on  the 
rocks  the  lover  of  flowers  and  ferns  will  scram- 
ble. There  are  the  dainty  forget-me-nots,  tiny 
flowers  of  starry  Avhite,  flowers  of  pale  orange 
with  centres  of  deep  maroon,  the  wild  gal- 
liardia,  and  the  wild  peony  with  its  variegated 
leaves.  Many  other  delicate  blossoms  which 
we  cannot  stop  to  describe  are  there  too.     And 


San  Bfeao,  35 

the  ferns!  All  kinds  may  be  found  by  the  in- 
itiated, and  many  are  close  at  hand.  The  fern 
lined  with  gold  or  with  silver,  the  running  ferns, 
the  ferns  of  lace-hke  fineness,  the  ferns  as  soft 
as  velvet,  all  growing  in  the  greatest  profusion. 
And  each  day  of  the  week  a  different  drive  and 
new  dehghts. 

There  is  the  valley  of  El  Cajon  ("  the  box  "), 
which  should  be  visited  in  gi'ape-picking  time. 
The  great  Boston  ranch  alone  employs  three 
hundred  and  twenty-five  pickers.  Men,  women, 
children,  all  busy,  and  the  grapes  when  just 
turned  are  sweet,  spicy,  and  delicious,  making 
the  air  fragrant.  This  valley  is  dotted  with 
handsome  villas  and  prosperous  ranches.  The 
range  of  mountains  which  looms  up  before  us 
from  the  veranda  of  the  hotel  is  not  yet  digni- 
fied by  a  name,  yet  it  is  more  imposing  than 
the  White  Mountains,  and  in  the  distance  we  see 
old  Cuyamaca,  nearly  seven  thousand  feet  high. 
But  we  must  take  the  next  train  for  San  Diego, 
or  this  chapter  will  be  a  volume  in  itself.  And 
I  have  not  even  alluded  to  the  "  Great  Back 
Country." 


36  a  Urutbtul  Moman. 

The  founder  of  San  Diego  is  still  living, 
still  hopeful,  still  young  at  heart.  "  Father  " 
Horton,  the  typical  pioneer,  deserves  more 
honors  than  he  has  yet  received.  Coming  from 
Connecticut  to  California  in  1 85 1 ,  he  soon  made 
a  small  fortune  in  mining,  buying  and  selling 
gold-dust,  and  providing  the  diggers  with  ice  and 
water  for  their  work.  He  rode  over  the  country 
in  those  lawless  times  selling  the  precious  dust 
disguised  as  a  poverty-stricken  good-for-naught, 
with  trusty  revolver  always  in  his  right  hand 
on  the  pommel  of  the  saddle — the  handsome 
green  saddle  covered  with  an  old  potato  sack. 
In  this  way  he  evaded  the  very  men  who  had 
been  on  his  track  for  weeks.  Once  he  came 
near  capture.  He  passed  a  bad-looking  lot  of 
horsemen,  one  of  whom  had  a  deep  red  scar 
the  whole  length  of  his  cheek.  He  got  by 
safely,  but  one,  looking  round,  exclaimed,  "  My 
God!  That's  Horton!  I  see  the  green  sad- 
dle." And  back  they  dashed  to  kill  him  and 
gain  his  treasure,  but  he  escaped  into  a  canon, 
and  they  lost  their  one  chance. 

At  another  time  he  had  $3500  in  gold  in  his 


San  WiCQO.  37 

bell,  and  at  a  tavern  of  poor  repute  he  could 
hear  through  cracks  in  the  floor  of  his  bedroom 
the  gamblers  below  laughing  about  the  old 
greenhorn  above  who  had  his  supper  of  mush 
and  milk  and  had  asked  for  a  lock  on  his  door. 
Returning  East  7'/a  Panama  in  1856,  he 
proved  himself  a  hero  and  a  soldier  during  the 
ten'ible  riot  there.  The  natives,  angry  because 
they  had  lost  the  money  they  used  to  make  in 
transporting  passengers,  attacked  the  foreigners, 
kiUing  and  plundering  all  who  came  in  their 
way,  the  police  turning  traitors  and  aiding  them. 
The  hotel  was  attacked,  and  among  all  the 
passengers  only  three  were  armed.  Mr.  Horton 
and  these  two  young  men  stood  at  the  top  of 
the  stairs  and  shot  all  who  tried  to  get  nearer. 
When  they  fell  back  eight  rioters  were  dead  and 
others  wounded.  Then  Mr.  Horton  formed 
the  two  hundred  passengers  in  order  and 
marched  them  off  to  a  lighter,  and  put  them 
aboard  the  steamer.  About  half  this  number 
wanted  to  go  on  to  San  Francisco,  but  had  lost 
all  their  money  and  baggage.  Mr.  Ralston  and 
Mr.  Horton  helped  many  to  pay  their  passage, 


38  H  Urutbful  Moman, 

but  not  one  person  was  ever  heard  of  again, 
not  one  cent  was  returned,  not  even  one  word 
of  gratitude  or  good  intentions. 

Up  to  the  period  which  is  known  as  the 
boom  of  1870-71,  the  history  of  San  Diego  was 
so  interwoven  and  closely  connected  with  the 
life  of  Mr.  Horton  that  the  story  of  one  is 
inseparable  from  that  of  the  other. 

When  Mr.  Horton  came  from  San  Francisco 
to  see  the  wonderful  harbor  described  by  friends, 
there  was  nothing  there  but  two  old  buildings, 
the  baiTen  hillsides,  and  the  sheep  pastures. 

His  gifts  to  the  city  and  to  individuals  amount 
to  a  present  valuation  of  over  a  million  of  dollars. 
Of  the  nine  hundred  acres  of  land  which  he  orig- 
inally bought  (a  part  of  the  Mexican  grant)  at 
twenty-seven  cents  an  acre,  he  owns  but  little. 

But  it  is  to  his  common  sense,  foresight,  and 
business  ability  that  the  present  city  owes  much 
of  its  success ;  and  it  is  interesting  to  hear 
him  tell  of  exciting  adventures  in  "  Poker  Flat," 
and  other  places  which  Bret  Harte  has  worked 
up  so  successfully. 

Lieut,  George  H.  Derby  is  amusingly  associ- 


San  Dieao.  39 

ated  with  "  Old  Town,"  the  former  San  Diego, 
three  miles  from  the  present  city.  He  had 
offended  Jefferson  Davis,  then  Secretary  of 
War,  by  his  irreverent  wit,  and  was  punished 
by  exile  to  this  then  almost  unknown  region, 
which  he  called  "  Sandy  Ague,"  chiefly  inhab- 
ited by  the  flea,  the  horned  toad,  and  the  rat- 
tlesnake. Mr.  Ames,  of  the  Hej-ald,  a  demo- 
cratic paper,  asked  Derby,  a  stanch  whig,  to 
occupy  the  editorial  chair  during  a  brief  absence. 
He  did  so,  changing  its  politics  at  once,  and 
furnishing  funny  articles  which  later  appeared 
as  "  Phoenixiana,"  and  ranked  him  with  Artemus 
Ward  as  a  genuine  American  humorist.  Here 
is  his  closing  paragraph  after  those  preposter- 
ous somersaults  and  daring  pranks  as  editor 
piv  tern: 

"  Very  little  news  will  be  found  in  the 
Herald  this  week ;  the  fact  is,  there  never  is 
much  news  in  it,  and  it  is  very  well  that  it  is 
so ;  the  climate  here  is  so  delightful  that  resi- 
dents in  the  enjoyment  of  their  doke  far  7iieiite 
care  very  little  about  what  is  going  on  elsewhere, 
and  residents  of  other  places  care  very  httle 


40  a  xrrutbtttl  Moman. 

about  what  is  going  on  in  San  Diego,  so  all 
parties  are  likely  to  be  gratified  with  the  little 
paper,  '  and  long  may  it  wave.'  " 

The  present  city  has  eighteen  thousand 
inhabitants,  twenty-three  church  organizations, 
remarkably  fine  schools,  a  handsome  opera- 
house,  broad  asphalt  pavements,  electric  lights, 
electric  and  cable  cars, — a  compact,  well-built 
city,  from  the  fine  homes  on  the  Heights  to  the 
business  portion  near  the  water. 

In  regard  to  society,  I  find  that  the  "best 
society  "  is  much  the  same  all  over  the  civilized 
world.  Accomplished,  cultured,  well-bred  men 
and  women  are  found  in  every  town  and  city 
in  California.  And  distance  from  metropolitan 
privileges  makes  people  more  independent, 
better  able  to  entertain  themselves  and  their 
guests,  more  eagerly  appreciative  of  the  best  in 
every  direction. 

"  O  city  reflecting  thy  might  from  the  sea, 
There  is  grandeur  and  power  in  tlie  future  for  thee, 
Whose  flovver-broidercd  garments  the  soft  billows  lave, 
Thy  brow  on  the  hillside,  thy  feet  in  the  wave." 

Many  of  San  Diego's  guests  have  no  idea  of 
her  at  her  best.     The  majority  of  winter  tour- 


San  MCQO,  41 

ists  leave  California  just  as  Mother  Nature 
braces  up  to  do  her  best  with  wild-flowers,  blos- 
soming orchards,  and  waving  grain-fields.  The 
summers  are  really  more  enjoyable  than  the  win- 
ters. When  the  Nicaragua  Canal  is  completed 
it  will  be  a  pleasant  trip  to  San  Diego  from  any 
Atlantic  seaport.  A  railroad  to  Phoenix,  Ari- 
zona, via  Yuma,  will  allow  the  melting,  panting, 
gasping  inhabitants  of  New  Mexico  and  Ari- 
zona an  opportunity  to  get  into  a  delightfully 
cool  climate. 

THE    INDIANS   AND    THE    MISSION    FATHERS. 

As  for  Indians,  I  have  never  seen  such  In- 
dians as  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  depicts  so  lov- 
ingly. I  have  never  seen  any  one  who  has 
seen  one.  They  existed  in  her  imagination 
only,  as  did  Fenimore  Cooper's  noble  redmen 
of  the  forest  solely  in  his  fancy.  Both  have 
given  us  delightful  novels,  and  we  are  grateful. 

The  repulsive  stolid  creatures  I  have  seen 
at  stations,  with  sullen  stare,  long  be-vermined 
locks,  and  filthy  blankets  full  of  fleas,  are  pos- 
sibly not  a  fair  representation  of  the  remnants 
of  the  race.     They  have  been  unfairly  dealt 


42  H  XTrutbtul  Moman, 

with.  I  am  glad  they  can  be  educated  and 
improved.  They  seem  to  need  it.  After  read- 
ing "  Ramona "  and  Mrs.  Jackson's  touching 
article  on  the  "  Mission  Indians  in  California," 
and  then  looking  over  the  opinions  of  honest 
writers  of  a  previous  generation  regarding  the 
Indians,  it  is  more  puzzling  than  ever.  The 
following  criticisms  apply  exclusively  to  the 
Southern  Californian  tribes. 

Mr.  Robinson,  after  a  twenty  years'  residence 
among  them,  said:  "The  Indian  of  California 
is  a  species  of  monkey ;  he  imitates  and  copies 
white  men,  but  selects  vice  in  preference  to 
virtue.  He  is  hypocritical  and  treacherous, 
never  looks  at  any  one  in  conversation,  but  has 
a  wandering,  malicious  gaze.  Truth  is  not  in 
him." 

And  the  next  testimony  is  from  an  Indian 
curate :  "  The  Indians  lead  a  life  of  indolence 
rather  than  devote  themselves  to  the  enlighten- 
ing of  their  souls  with  ideas  of  civilization  and 
cultivation ;  it  is  repugnant  to  their  feelings, 
which  have  become  vitiated  by  the  unrestricted 
customs  among  them.      Their   inclination  to 


San  McQO.  43 

possess  themselves  of  the  property  of  others  is 
unbounded.  Their  hypocrisy  when  they  pray 
is  as  much  to  be  feared  as  their  insolence  when 
in  tumultuous  disorder.  They  are  ne\'er  grate- 
ful for  any  benefit,  nor  do  they  pardon  an  in- 
jury, and  they  never  proffer  civihties,  unless  to 
accomplish  some  interested  motive.  They  are 
ready  to  expose  themselves  to  the  greatest  dan- 
ger to  satisfy  their  predominant  passions.  The 
future  from  them  is  ever  veiled  by  the  present. 
Their  inconstancy  and  want  of  confidence  de- 
prives them  of  friends,  and  he  who  by  decep- 
tion holds  them  in  subjection  may  reduce  them 
to  almost  abject  slavery." 

Dana,  speaking  of  the  language  of  the  Cali- 
fomian  Indians,  described  it  as  "  brutish  "  and 
"  a  complete  slabber." 

The  missionary  Fathers  did  their  best  to  teach 
and  convert  them,  and  the  missions  must  be 
spoken  of.     So  we  will  go  back  a  little. 

No  one  knows  how  California  was  so  named. 
St.  Diego  was  the  patron  saint  of  Spain.  St. 
Francis,  who  founded  the  Franciscan  order, 
was  a  gay  young  Itahan,  who  after  conversion 


44  H  XTrutbtul  Moman. 

led  a  life  of  mortification  and  extreme  self- 
denial,  tramped  about  like  a  beggar,  scourged 
himself,  slept  on  ground,  rolled  in  snow  to  sub- 
due the  flesh,  fasted,  wept  until  he  was  almost 
blind,  saw  visions,  like  all  other  great  religious 
leaders,  received  messages  directly  from  Christ, 
and  was  at  last  rewarded  with  the  stigmata  (the 
marks  of  the  crucifix  on  his  body),  and  com- 
memoration after  death. 

Father  Junipero,  of  this  order,  was  ap- 
pointed presiding  missionary  of  California,  and 
arrived  July,  1769,  erected  a  great  cross  on  the 
coast,  celebrated  mass,  and  commenced  his 
work.  Like  St.  Francis,  he  was  earnest,  devout, 
pure,  and  self-sacrificing,  blessed  with  won- 
derful magnetism.  Once,  while  exhorting  his 
hearers  to  repent,  he  scourged  his  own  shoul- 
ders so  unmercifully  with  a  chain  that  his 
audience  shuddered  and  wept ;  and  one  man, 
overcome  by  emotion,  rushed  to  the  pulpit, 
secured  the  chain,  and,  disrobing,  flogged  him- 
self to  death.  This  holy  Father  believed  that 
he  was  especially  protected  by  Heaven,  and 
that  once,  when  journeying  on  a  desolate  road. 


San  Diego,  45 

he  was  hospitably  entertained  by  the  Holy 
Family. 

He  said,  "  I  have  placed  my  faith  in  God, 
and  trust  in  His  goodness  to  plant  the  standard 
of  the  holy  cross  not  only  at  San  Diego,  but 
even  as  far  as  Monterey." 

And  this  was  done  in  less  than  ten  years,  but 
with  many  discouragements. 

The  first  Indian  who  was  induced  to  bring 
his  baby  for  baptism  got  frightened,  and  dashed 
away,  taking,  however,  the  handsome  piece  of 
cloth  which  had  been  wrapped  around  the 
child  for  the  ceremony. 

Next  there  was  an  attack  with  arrows ;  in 
less  than  a  month  serious  fighting  followed; 
and  later  more  than  one  thousand  Indians 
joined  in  the  attack.  One  priest  was  killed 
and  all  inhabitants  of  the  mission  more  or  less 
wounded,  and  the  mission  itself  was  burned. 
The  present  ruins  are  the  "  new "  buildings 
on  the  site  of  the  old,  completed  in  1784,  the 
walls  of  adobe  four  feet  thick,  the  doorways 
and  windows  of  burnt  tiles.  These  half-cylin- 
drical plates  of  hard-burnt  clay  were  used  to 


46  H  XTrutbtul  Moman. 

protect  the  inmates  from  the  sun  and  the  burn- 
ing arrows  of  the  Indians,  and  are  now  greatly 
valued  as  relics. 

In  front  is  the  orchard  of  three  hundred  olive 
trees,  more  than  a  century  old,  still  bearing  a 
full  crop,  and  hkely  to  do  so  for  centuries  to 
come.  As  the  Indians  disliked  work  much,  and 
church  services  more,  they  were  encouraged  in 
both  matters  by  rather  forcible  means,  as  the 
Irishman  "  enticed  "  the  pig  into  his  pen  with 
a  pitchfork.  We  "  tourists  "  who,  dismounting 
from  our  carriages,  view  with  sentimental  rev- 
erence the  picturesque  ruins,  the  crumbling 
arches,  the  heavy  bells  now  silent  but  mutely 
teUing  a  wondrous  story  of  the  past,  and  tiptoe 
quietly  through  the  damp  interiors,  gazing  at 
pictures  of  saints  and  of  hell  and  paradise, 
dropping  our  coins  into  the  box  at  the  door, 
and  going  out  duly  impressed  to  admire  the 
architecture  or  the  carving,  or  the  general  fine 
effect  against  the  sky  of  fleckless  blue — we 
picture  these  sable  neophytes  coming  gladly, 
bowing  in  devout  homage,  delighted  to  learn 
of  God  and  Duty,  and  cheerfully  cooperating 


San  McQO,  47 

with  the  good  priests  who  had  come  so  far  to 
teach  them.  In  1827  the  San  Diego  mission 
had  within  its  boundaries  an  Indian  population 
of  1500,  10,000  head  of  cattle,  17,000  sheep, 
and  more  than  1000  horses.  But  Mr.  Robin- 
son tells  us  that  the  Indians  were  dragged  to 
service,  were  punished  and  chained  if  they 
tried  to  escape,  and  that  it  was  not  unusual  to 
see  numbers  of  them  driven  along  by  a  leader 
and  forced  with  a  whip-lash  into  the  doors  of 
the  sanctuary. 

It  is  said  that  they  were  literally  enslaved 
and  scared  into  submission  by  dreadful  pictures 
of  hell  and  fear  of  everlasting  torment.  After 
church  they  would  gamble,  and  they  often  lost 
everything,  even  wives  and  children.  They 
were  low,  brutal,  unintelligent,  with  an  exceed- 
ingly limited  vocabulary  and  an  unbounded 
appetite.  A  man  is  as  he  eats,  and,  as  some 
one  says,  "  If  a  man  eats  peanuts  he  will  think 
peanuts." 

"  There  was  nothing  that  could  be  swallowed 
and  digested  which  the  San  Diego  Indian 
would  not  eat.     Snakes,  half  roasted  and  even 


48         a  xrtutbtttl  Moman, 

raw,  were  toothsome  dainties.  The  horned  toad 
and  the  lizard  had  favorite  places  at  each  repast. 
Human  parasites  were  not  refused,  and  mice, 
gophers,  bats,  caterpillars,  worms,  entrails,  and 
even  carrion,  were  consumed  with  a  greed  that 
did  not  stop  at  pounds.  Hittel  says  that  twenty- 
four  pounds  of  meat  in  a  day  was  not  too  much 
for  a  Californian  Indian,  and  Baegart  mentions 
the  case  of  one  native  who  ate  seventeen  water- ' 
melons  at  a  sitting.  The  smoking  of  wild  to- 
bacco was  carried  on  to  equal  excess." 

The  saintly  Fathers  deserve  unlimited  praise 
for  making  them  accomplish  so  much  and 
behave  as  well  as  they  did.  Those  New  Eng- 
landers  who  criticise  them  as  severe  in  disci- 
pline must  remember  that  at  the  same  period 
our  ancestors  were  persecuting  Quakers  and 
burning  witches.  The  beautiful  hospitality  of 
these  early  priests  should  also  be  mentioned. 

Alfred  Robinson  described  a  miracle  play 
which  he  saw  performed  at  San  Diego  at  Christ- 
mas, in  1830,  as  akin  to  the  miracle  plays  of 
mediaeval  Europe.     The  actors  took  the  part 


San  WiCQO.  49 

of  Gabriel,  Lucifer,  shepherds,  a  hermit,  and 
Bartolo,  a  lazy  vagabond  who  was  the  clown 
and  furnished  the  element  of  comedy:  the 
whole  interspersed  with  songs  and  incidents 
better  adapted  to  the  stage  than  to  the  chiu-ch. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

EN    ROUTE    TO    LOS    ANGELES. 

"  Bless  me,  this  is  pleasant, 
Riding  on  the  rail!" 


N  the  Surf  Line  from  San  Diego  to  Los 
Angeles,  a  seventy-mile  run  along  the 
coast,  there  is  so  much  to  see,  admire, 
and  think  about,  that  the  time  passes  rapidly 
without  napping  or  nodding.  Take  a  chair  seat 
on  the  left  of  car — the  ocean  side — and  enjoy 
the  panoramic  view  from  the  window:  the 
broad  expanse  of  the  Pacific,  its  long  curling 
breakers,  the  seals  and  porpoises  tumbling  about 
in  clumsy  frolics,  the  graceful  gulls  circling 
above  them,  the  picturesque  canons,  and  the 
flocks  of  birds  starting  from  the  ground,  fright- 
ened by  our  approach.  This  we  watch  for 
more  than  an  hour;  then  the  scene  changes, 
50 


3£n  IRoute  to  Xos  Hnaeles,     51 

and,  leaving  the  water,  we  have  ghmpses  of 
wondrous  carpets  of  wild-flowers,  the  golden 
poppy  predominant,  miles  of  brilliant  green  on 
either  hand,  peeps  at  the  three  missions,  the 
groves  at  Orange,  the  town  of  Santa  Ana,  and 
Anaheim,  the  parent  colony,  the  first  of  all  the 
irrigated  settlements  of  Southern  California, 
now  a  wealthy  city. 

The  missions  are  always  interesting.  San 
Juan  Capistrano  was  seriously  injured  by  an 
earthquake  in  1812  ;  the  tower  was  shaken  so 
severely  that  it  toppled  over  during  morning 
mass,  kiUing  thirty  of  the  worshippers,  the  priests 
escaping  through  the  sacristy.  It  was  the  latest 
and  costhest  of  the  missions.  "Its  broken  olive 
mill  and  crumbhng  dove-cote,  and  the  spacious 
weed-grown  courts  and  corridors,  are  pathetic 
witnesses  to  the  grandeur  of  the  plans  and  pur- 
poses of  the  founders,  and  also  of  the  rapidity 
with  which  nature  eflfaces  the  noblest  works  of 
human  hands." 

But  San  Luis  Rey  is  in  good  condition,  hav- 
ing been  restored  to  something  of  its  original 
beauty,  and  recently  re-dedicated.     The  walled 


52  H  Urutbful  Moman. 

enclosures  once  contained  fifty-six  acres,  six 
being  covered  by  the  sacred  edifice,  its  arched 
colonnades,  and  the  cloisters,  in  which  the 
Fathers  lived,  surrounded  by  three  thousand 
baptized  savages.  Mrs.  Jeanne  C.  Carr  quotes 
a  stage-driver  with  whom  she  talked  on  the 
box  as  saying:  "Ye  see,  ma'am,  what  them 
old  padders  didn't  know  'bout  findin'  work  for 
their  subjicks  and  pervidin'  for  the  saints  'n'  an- 
gels, not  to  say  therselves,  wa'n't  wuth  know- 
in'.  They  carried  on  all  kinds  o'  bizness.  Meat 
was  plenty,  keepin'  an'  vittles  was  to  be  had  at 
all  the  missions  an'  ranches  too,  jes'  by  settin' 
round.  The  pastiu^es  and  hills  was  alive  with 
horses  and  cattle,  an'  hides  an'  taller  was  their 
coin.  They  cured  and  stacked  the  hides,  dug 
holes  in  stiff  ground,  an'  run  the  taller  into  'em ; 
it  kep'  sweet  until  a  ship  laid  up  to  Capistrano, 
then  that  taller  turned  into  gold.  They  could 
load  up  a  big  ship  in  a  single  day,  they  had  so 
many  Indians  to  help."  And  he  proceeded  to 
tell  of  his  own  lucky  find :  "A  lot  of  that  holy 
taller  was  lost  'n'  fergot,  nobuddy  knows  how 
many  years.    One  night  I  went  up  into  the  grass 


Bn  IRoute  to  %05  Bnaeles.     53 

beyant  the  mission  to  stake  out  my  hosses ;  an' 
when  I  druv  the  fust  stake  it  went  way  deawn, 
Hke  'twas  in  soft  mud.  I  jes'  yanked  it  up  :  half 
on  't  was  kivered  with  grease.  The  evening 
was  cool,  but  the  day  had  been  brilin',  an'  now 
mebbe  ye  kin  guess  how  I  found  my  taller 
mine.  'Twas  a  leetle  mouldy  on  top,  but  the 
heft  on  't  was  hard, — a  reg'lar  bonanzy  fer  a 
stage-driver." 

It  may  seem  irreverent  to  introduce  this  droll 
fellow  in  sharp  contrast  with  the  beautiful  ruin, 
full  of  the  most  cherished  memories  of  old 
Spain,  but  reality  often  gives  romance  a  hard 
jar.  It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  the  expelled 
Franciscan  order  has  just  returned  to  Califor- 
nia, and  that  San  Luis  Rey  is  now  occupied. 
It  is  worth  making  the  trip  to  San  Juan  to  see 
the  old  bells  struck,  as  in  former  times,  by  a 
rope  attached  to  the  clapper.  They  have  differ- 
ent tones,  and  how  eloquently  they  speak  to  us. 
These  missions  along  the  coast  and  a  hne  far- 
ther inland  are  the  only  real  ruins  that  we  have 
in  America,  and  must  be  preserved,  whether  as 
a  matter  of  sentiment  or  money,  and  in  some 


54  H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

way  protected  from  the  vandals  who  think  it 
jolly  fun  to  lug  off  the  old  red  tiles,  or  even  the 
stone  bowl  for  holy  water — anything  they  can 
steal.  At  San  Juan  the  plaster  statues  have 
been  disgracefully  mutilated  by  relic-hunters 
and  thoughtless  visitors.  Eyes  have  been 
picked  out,  noses  cut  ofif,  fingers  carried  away, 
and  the  altar-cloths  everywhere  have  been 
slashed  at  the  corners. 

A  society  has  been  formed  to  try  to  save 
them,  and  one  learned  and  enthusiastic  mission 
lover  proposes  to  revive  the  old  Camino  del 
Rey,  or  King's  Highway.  "  What  could  not 
the  drive  from  San  Diego  to  Sonoma  be  made 
if  the  State  once  roused  herself  to  make  it  ? 
Planted  and  watered  and  owned  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  forestry,  why  should  it  not  also  as  a 
route  of  pilgrimage  rank  with  that  to  Canter- 
bury or  Cologne  on  the  Rhine?  The  Francis- 
cans have  given  to  Cahfornia  a  nomenclature 
which  connects  them  and  us  permanently  with 
what  was  great  in  their  contemporary  history, 
while  we  preserve  daily  upon  our  lips  the  names 
of  the  great  chiefs  of  their  own  order." 


i£n  IRoute  to  %ob  Sn^eles,     55 

But  where  am  I  ?  Those  mouldering  walls 
led  me  into  a  reverie.  Speaking  of  "ruins" 
reminds  me  of  a  Frenchman  who  called  on  the 
poet  Longfellow  in  his  old  age  and  explained 
his  visit  in  this  way  :  "  Sare,  you  'ave  no  ruins 
in  dis  country,  so  I  'ave  come  to  see  you." 

The  cactus  hedge  around  each  mission  to 
keep  the  cattle  in,  and  possibly  the  hostile 
Indians  out,  must  have  been  effective.  We  see 
now  and  then  a  httle  that  has  survived.  This 
makes  me  think  of  a  curious  bird  I  noticed  in 
my  drives  at  San  Diego,  the  roadrunner,  classed 
with  the  cuckoo.  It  has  various  names,  the 
chaparral-cock,  the  ground-cuckoo,  the  prairie- 
cock,  paisano,  and  worst  of  all,  in  classic  no- 
menclature, the  Geococcyx  calif  or niatius. 

It  keeps  on  the  ground  most  of  the  time,  and 
can  run  with  such  swiftness  that  it  cannot  be 
easily  overtaken  by  horse  and  hounds.  It  has 
a  tail  longer  than  its  body,  which  it  bears  erect. 
It  kills  beetles,  toads,  birds,  and  mice,  but  has 
a  special  dislike  for  the  rattlesnake,  and  often 
meets  him  and  beats  him  in  fair  combat.  When 
it  finds  one  sleeping  or  torpid  it  makes  a  circle 


56  H  Urutbtul  Moman, 

of  cactus  thorns  around  him  so  he  cannot 
escape — for  "  future  reference,"  as  my  driver 
said. 

This  thorny  circle  is  akin  to  the  lariat  made 
of  horsehair,  the  ends  sticking  out  roughly  all 
around,  with  which  the  Indian  used  to  encircle 
himself  before  going  to  sleep,  as  a  protection 
from  the  rattlesnake,  who  could  not  cross  it. 
But  here  we  are  at  Los  Angeles.  Hear  the 
bawhng  cabbies:  "This  way  for  The  West- 
minster! "     "  Hollenbeck  Hotel ! " 


CHAPTER   V. 

LOS   ANGELES   AND    ROUND    ABOUT. 

'  O  southland!   O  dreamland!   with  cycles  of  green; 
O  moonlight  enchanted  by  mocking-bird's  song ; 
Cool  sea  winds,  fair  mountains,  the  fruit-lands  between, 
The  pepper  tree's  shade,  and  the  sunny  days  long." 


OS  ANGELES  is  the  chief  city  of 
Southern  Cahfornia,  and  truly  vener- 
able in  comparison  with  most  places 
in  the  State — founded  in  1781,  now  one  hun- 
dred and  twelve  years  old.  Its  full  name, 
"  Nuestra  Senora  la  Reina  de  los  Angeles," 
"  musical  as  a  chime  of  bells,"  would  hardly  do 
in  these  days,  and  "  The  City  of  the  Angels," 
as  it  is  sometimes  called,  scarcely  suits  the 
present  big  business-y  place,  which  was  started 
by  those  shrewd  old  padres  when  everything 
west  of  the  Alleghanies  was  an  almost  unknown 
region,  and  Chicago  and  St.  Louis  were  not 

5  57 


ss  H  tlrutbtul  Moman. 

thought  of.  These  Fathers  were  far-sighted 
fellows,  with  a  keen  eye  for  the  beautiful,  sure 
to  secure  griod  soil,  plenty  of  water,  and  fine 
scenery  for  a  settlement.  Next  came  the  His- 
pano-American  era  of  adobe,  stage-coaches, 
and  mule  teams,  now  replaced  by  the  purely 
American  possessions,  with  brick,  stone,  vesti- 
bule trains,  and  all  the  wonders  of  electricity. 
It  is  now  a  commercial  centre,  a  railroad  ter- 
minal, with  one  hundred  m'les  of  street-car  track 
within  the  city  limits,  carrying  twelve  million 
passengers  yearly.  It  has  outgrown  the  orig- 
inal grant  of  six  miles  square,  and  has  a  city 
limit,  and  the  first  street  traversed  this  square 
diagonally.  It  lies  on  the  Avest  bank  of  the 
Los  Angeles  River,  one  of  those  peculiar 
streams  which  hides  itself  half  the  year  only  to 
burst  forth  in  the  spring  in  a  most  assertive 
manner.  There  are  fine  public  buildings,  fifty- 
seven  churches,  to  suit  all  shades  of  religious 
belief,  two  handsome  theatres,  several  parks, 
and  long  streets  showing  homes  and  grounds 
comparing  favorably  with  the  best  environs  of 
Eastern    cities.     It   is    well  to  drive    through 


Xos  Hnaeles  ant>  IRounO  Hbout.  59 

Adams  and  Figueroa  streets  before  you  leave. 
There  are  no  attractive  hotels  at  present ;  but 
one  is  so  greatly  needed  and  desired  that  it  will 
soon  be  designed  and  realized. 

Madame  de  Stael  was  right  when  she  said 
she  greatly  preferred  meeting  interesting  men 
and  women  to  admiring  places  or  scenery. 
Among  my  pleasantest  memories  of  Los  An- 
geles are  my  visits  to  Madame  Fremont  in  her 
pretty  red  cottage,  presented  by  loving  friends. 
It  is  a  privilege  to  meet  such  a  clever,  versatile 
woman.  Her  conversation  flashes  with  epi- 
grams and  pithy  sayings,  and  her  heart  is  almost 
as  young  as  when  it  was  captured  by  the  dash- 
ing "  Pathfinder." 

I  believe  there  are  men  still  existing  who 
keep  up  the  old  absurd  fallacy  that  women  are 
deficient  in  wit  and  humor!  She  would  easily 
convert  all  such. 

The  Coronels,  to  whom  Mrs.  Jackson  was 
so  indebted  and  of  whom  she  wrote  so  appreci- 
atively, are  still  in  the  same  home,  cherishing 
her  memory  most  fondly,  her  photograph  be- 
ing placed  in  a  shrine  where  the  sweet-faced 


a  Urutbtul  Moman. 


madame  kneels  daily,  and  her  books  and  knick- 
knacks  are  preserved  as  precious  souvenirs. 

Don  Antonio  Coronel  is  truly  a  most  interest- 
ing personage,  the  last  specimen  of  the  grand 
old  Spanish  regime.  His  father  was  the  first 
schoolmaster  in  California,  and  the  son  has  in 
his  possession  the  first  schoolbook  printed  on 
this  coast,  at  Monterey  in  1835,  a  small  cate- 
chism ;  also  the  first  book  printed  in  Califor- 
nia, a  tiny  volume  dated  1833,  the  father  having 
brought  the  type  from  Spain. 

I  was  taken  to  the  basement  to  see  a  rare 
collection  of  antiquities.  In  one  corner  is  a 
cannon  made  in  1 7 10,  and  brought  by  Junipero 
Serra.  Ranged  on  shelves  is  a  collection  such 
as  can  be  found  nowhere  else,  of  great  value : 
strange  stone  idols,  a  few  specimens  of  the 
famous  iridescent  pottery,  queer  ornaments, 
toys,  and  relics.  In  another  comer  see  the 
firearms  and  weapons  of  long  ago :  old  flint- 
locks, muskets,  Spanish  bayonets,  crossbows, 
and  spears.  There  are  coins,  laces,  baskets, 
toys,  skulls,  scalps,  and  a  sombrero  Avith  two 


Xos  Hn^eles  ant)  IRount)  about  6i 

long  red  pennons,  on  which  each  feather  repre- 
sents a  human  scalp.  Upstairs  there  are  early 
specimens  of  Mexican  art ;  one  of  the  oldest 
pictures  of  Junipero  Serra ;  groups  in  clay  mod- 
elled by  the  Dona  Mariana  of  Mexican  scenes ; 
feather  pictures  made  from  the  plumage  of 
gorgeous  birds  —  too  much  to  remember  or 
describe  here.  But  I  do  beHeve  that  if  asked 
to  say  what  they  valued  most,  they  would  point 
to  the  little  wooden  table  where  their  dear 
friend  sat  when  she  wrote  the  first  pages  of 
"  Ramona." 

For  the  stranger  Los  Angeles  is  the  place  to 
go  to  to  see  a  new  play,  or  marvel  at  the  dis- 
play of  fruits  seen  at  a  citrus  fair — forts  made 
of  thousands  of  oranges,  and  railroad  stations 
and  crowns  of  lemons,  etc. — and  admire  a  car- 
nival of  flowers,  or  for  a  day's  shopping ;  but 
there  are  better  spots  in  which  to  remain.  I 
found  the  night  air  extremely  unpleasant  last 
winter,  and  after  hearing  from  a  veracious  drug- 
gist, to  whom  I  applied  for  a  gargle,  that  there 
was  an  epidemic  of  grip  in  the  city,  and  that 


62  a  Urutbtul  moman. 

many  died  of  pneumonia  and  that  a  small 
majority  of  the  invahds  got  well,  I  packed  my 
trunk  hastily  and  started  for  Pasadena. 

Those  who  live  in  the  city  and  those  who  do 
not  dislike  raw,  bracing  winds  from  the  ocean 
pronounce  Los  Angeles  to  be  the  otily  place 
worth  living  in  in  all  Southern  California.  Each 
place  has  its  supporters  ignoring  all  other  at- 
tractions, and  absolutely  opposite  accounts  of 
the  weather  have  been  seriously  given  me  by 
visitors  to  each.  For  those  who  must  be  "  high 
and  dry  "  to  improve,  the  rainy  season  is  cer- 
tainly unsafe. 

Los  Angeles  is  also  a  place  to  go  from  to 
the  beach  at  Santa  Monica,  and  Redondo,  or 
that  wondrous  island,  "  Santa  Catalina,"  which 
has  been  described  by  Mr.  C.  F.  Holder  in  the 
Californian  so  enthusiastically  that  I  should 
think  the  "  Isle  of  Summer  "  could  not  receive 
all  who  would  unite  to  share  his  raptures — with 
a  climate  nearer  to  absolute  perfection  than 
any  land,  so  near  all  the  conveniences  of  civili- 
zation, and  everything  else  that  can  be  desired. 
His  first  jew-fish  or  black   sea-bass  weighed 


%os  HitGeles  an&  lRoun^  about.  63 

342^  pounds,  and  a  dozen  other  varieties  are 
gamy  and  plentiful ;  fine  sport  with  the  rifle  in 
the  upland  region,  wealth  of  verdure  along  the 
trail ;  below,  good  hotel,  beaches,  bathing, 
evening  concerts — "  the  true  land  of  sweet  idle- 
ness, where  one  can  drift  around  with  all  nature 
to  entertain."  To  be  strictly  truthful,  I  must 
add  that  the  hotel  was  built  just  over  an  old 
Indian  biuying-ground,  therefore  cases  of  ty- 
phoid fever  are  not  unknown. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

PASADENA. 

"  If  there  be  an  Elysium  upon  earth, 
It  is  this,  it  is  this." 

lOR  my  own  taste,  I  prefer  Pasadena, 
the  "  Crown  of  the  Valley  " — nine 
miles  from  Los  Angeles,  but  eight 
hundred  feet  higher  and  with  much  drier  air, 
at  the  foot  of  the  Sierra  Madre  range,  in  the 
beauteous  San  Gabriel  Valley.  Yes,  Pasadena 
seems  to  me  as  near  Eden  as  can  be  found  by 
mortal  man. 

Columbus  in  a  letter  to  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella said,  "  I  believe  that  if  I  should  pass 
under  the  equator  in  arriving  at  this  higher 
region  of  which  I  speak,  I  should  find  there  a 
milder  temperature  and  a  diversity  in  the  stars 
64 


lC>asa&ena.  65 

and  in  the  waters.  ...  I  am  convinced  that 
there  is  the  Terrestrial  Paradise." 

Poor  persecuted  Columbus!  I  wish  he  could 
have  once  seen  Pasadena,  the  very  spot  he 
dreamed  of.  Can  I  now  write  calmly,  crit- 
ically, judicially  of  what  I  see,  enjoy,  admire 
and  wonder  over?  If  I  succeed  it  will  be  what 
no  one  else  has  done.  I  was  here  last  year 
and  gave  my  impressions  then,  which  are  only 
strengthened  by  a  second  visit,  so  that  I  will 
quote  my  own  words,  which  read  like  the  veri- 
est gush,  but  are  absolutely  true,  came  straight 
from  my  heart,  and,  after  all,  didn't  half  tell 
the  story. 

I  am  fascinated  and  enthralled  by  your  sun- 
kissed,  rose-embowered,  semi-tropical  summer- 
land  of  Hellenic  sky  and  hills  of  Hymettus, 
with  its  paradoxical  antitheses :  of  flowers  and 
flannels ;  strawberries  and  sealskin  sacks ;  open 
fires  with  open  windows ;  snow-capped  moun- 
tains and  orange  blossoms ;  winter  looking 
down  upon  summer — a  topsy-turvy  land,  where 
you  dig  for  your  wood  and  climb  for  your  coal ; 
v/here  water-pipes  are  laid  above  ground,  with 


66  H  XCrutbful  Moman. 

no  fear  of  Jack  Frost,  and  your  principal  rivers 
flow  bottom  side  up  and  invisible  most  of  the 
time ;  where  the  boys  chmb  up  hill  on  burros 
and  slide  down  hills  on  wheels ;  where  the  trees 
are  green  all  the  year,  and  you  go  outdoors  in 
December  to  get  warm ;  where  squiiTels  live  in 
the  ground  with  owls  for  chums,  while  rats 
build  in  the  trees,  and  where  water  runs  up  hill ; 
where  anything  unpleasant,  from  a  seismic  dis- 
turbance to  mosquitoes  in  March,  is  "  excep- 
tional" and  surprising.  A  land  where  there 
are  no  seasons,  but  where  sunshine  and  shade 
are  so  distinctly  marked  that  one  can  be  easily 
half  baked  on  one  side  and  dangerously  chilled 
on  the  other. 

Then  the  Climate — spell  it  with  a  capital, 
and  then  try  to  think  of  an  adjective  worthy 
to  precede  it.  Glorious!  Delicious!  Incom- 
parable! Paradisaical!!!  To  a  tenderfoot 
straight  from  New  Hampshire,  where  we  have 
nine  months  of  winter  and  three  of  pretty  cold 
weather,  where  we  have  absolutely  but  three 
months  that  are  free  from  frost,  this  seems  Hke 
enchanted  ground. 


pasat)ena»  67 

A  climate  warm,  with  a  constant  refreshing 
coolness  in  its  heart ;  cool,  with  a  latent  vivify- 
ing warmth  forever  peeping  out  of  its  coat-tail 
pocket. 

June  does  not  define  it,  nor  September.  It 
has  no  synonym,  for  there  is  nothing  like  it. 
I  am  glad  that  I  have  lived  to  see  hedges  of 
heliotrope,  of  geraniums  and  calla-lilies.  I  re- 
member, in  contrast,  solitary  calla  plants  that  I 
have  nursed  with  care  all  winter  in  hopes  of 
one  blossom  for  Easter.  And  I  do  not  feel 
sure  that  I  can  ever  tear  myself  away.  I  am 
reminded  of  good  old  Dr.  Watts,  who  was  in- 
vited by  Lady  Abney  to  pass  a  fortnight  at  her 
home,  and  remained  for  forty  years. 

Here  we  all  unconsciously  eat  the  lotus  in 
some  occult  fashion,  are  straightway  bewitched 
and  held  willing  captives.  I  have  looked  up 
the  lotus,  about  which  so  much  is  said  or  sung 
and  so  little  definitely  known,  and  find  it  is 
a  prickly  shrub  of  Africa,  bearing  a  fruit  of 
a  sweet  taste,  and  the  early  Greeks  knew  all 
about  its  power.  Homer  in  the  Odyssey  says 
that  whoever  ate  of  the  fruit  wished  never  to 


68  H  ITrutbful  Moinan. 


depart  nor  again  to  see  his  native  land.  Many 
of  Ulysses'  sailors  ate  this  fruit,  and  lost  all 
desire  for  home. 

The  last  letter  received  by  me  from  New 
Hampshire,  April  3d,  begins  in  this  way :  "  It 
is  like  the  middle  of  winter  here,  good  sleighing 
and  still  very  cold."  And  then  comes  a  sad 
series  of  announcements  of  sickness  and  deaths 
caused  by  the  protracted  rigors  of  the  season. 
And  here,  at  the  same  date,  all  the  glories  of  the 
spring,  which  far  exceeds  our  summer — Spanish 
breezes,  Itahan  sky  and  sunsets,  Alpine  moun- 
tains, tropical  luxuriance  of  vegetation,  a  nearly 
uniform  climate,  a  big  outdoor  conservatory. 
There  is  no  other  place  on  earth  that  combines 
so  much  in  the  same  limits.  You  can  snowball 
your  companions  on  Christmas  morning  on  the 
mountain-top,  pelt  your  lady  friends  with  rose 
leaves  in  the  foot-hills  three  hours  later,  and  in 
another  sixty  minutes  dip  in  the  surf  no  cooler 
than  Newport  in  July;  and  the  theatre  in  the 
evening.  As  a  bright  workman  said,  you  can 
freeze  through  and  thaw  out  in  one  day. 

An  electric  railroad  will  soon  connect  Los 


lC>asa^ena.  6g 

Angeles  with  Pasadena  and  Mount  Wilson,  and 
a  fine  hotel  is  to  be  placed  on  the  top  of  Echo 
Mountain,  3500  feet  high,  and  this  will  then 
certainly  be  the  ideal  health  and  pleasure  resort 
of  the  world. 

Pasadena's  homes,  protected  on  three  sides 
by  mountain  ranges,  are  surrounded  by  groves 
and  gardens,  trees  and  hedges  from  every  clime. 
Everything  will  grow  and  flourish  here.  Capi- 
talists from  the  East  seem  engaged  in  a  gener- 
ous rivalry  to  create  the  ideal  paradise.  Passion 
vines  completely  cover  the  arbors,  roses  clam- 
ber to  the  tops  of  houses  and  blossom  by  tens 
of  thousands.  I  notice  displays  fit  for  a  floral 
show  in  the  windows  of  butcher  shops  and  shoe 
stores.  The  churches  are  adorned  with  a  mantle 
of  vines  and  flowers. 

Are  there  no  "  outs,"  no  defects  in  this  Pasa- 
dena? One  must  not  forget  the  rainy  days, 
the  occasional  "  hot  spells  "  of  August  and  Sep- 
tember, a  wind  now  and  then  that  blows  off 
steeples  and  tears  down  fragile  structures,  bring- 
ing along  a  good  deal  more  sand  than  is  wanted. 
And  every  year  an  earthquake  may  be  expected. 


70  a  Urutbful  Moman. 

I  have  experienced  two,  and  they  are  not  agree- 
able. 

Aside  from  these  drawbacks  and  dust  in 
summer,  all  else  is  perfection,  except  that  the 
weather  is  so  uniformly  glorious  that  there  is 
seldom  a  day  when  one  is  willing  to  stay  at 
home.  I  feel  just  now  like  a  "  deestrick  "  school- 
boy who  has  been  "kept  in  "  on  a  summer  after- 
noon. 

The  wild-flowers  are  more  fascinating  to  me 
than  all  those  so  profusely  cultivated.  I  weary 
of  five  thousand  calla-lilies  in  one  church  at 
Easter,  and  lose  a  little  interest  in  roses  when 
they  bloom  perennially  and  in  such  profusion 
that  I  have  had  enough  given  me  in  one  morn- 
ing to  fill  a  wash-tub  or  clothes-basket! 

The  wealth  of  color  on  the  hills  and  mesas  in 
springtime  can  never  be  described  or  painted. 
The  State  flower,  the  yellow  poppy  with  the 
name  that  would  floor  any  spelling-match  hero — 
the  eschscholtzia — is  most  conspicuous,  and  can 
be  seen  far  away  at  sea ;  but  there  are  dozens 
of  others,  that  it  is  better  to  admire  and  leave 
unplucked,  as  they  wilt  so  soon.  "The  ground  is 


IPasaDeua.  71 


literally  dolly-vardened  with  buttercups,  violets, 
dodecatheons,  gilias,  nemophilas,  and  the  like. 
And  yet  these  are  the  mere  skirmish  line  of  the 
mighty  invading  hosts,  whose  uniforms  surpass 
the  kingly  robes  of  Solomon,  and  whose  ban- 
ners of  crimson  and  yellow  and  purple  will  soon 
wave  on  every  hilltop  and  in  every  valley. 

"In  April  and  May  the  lover  of  nature  may 
pass  into  the  seventh  heaven  of  botanical  de- 
light. Then  in  favored  sections  the  display 
reaches  a  gorgeousness  and  a  profusion  that 
surpass  both  description  and  imagination." 

No  one  can  paint  the  grain  fields  as  they 
look  when  the  sun  puts  into  every  blade  a  tiny 
golden  ray  and  it  is  no  longer  every-day  com- 
mon grain,  but  an  enchanted  carpet  of  living, 
radiant,  golden  green.  We  tourists  call  it  grass, 
but  there  is  no  grass  to  be  proud  of  in  Cali- 
fornia. 

No  one  can  paint  the  sky ;  no  one  would 
accept  it  as  true  to  nature  if  once  caught  on 
the  canvas. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  mountains 
with  their  many  charms.     I  hstened  to  a  lecture 


72  H  Urutbtul  Moman, 

lately  where  a  man  was  struggling  to  do  this, 
and  it  was  positively  painful.  The  flowery 
verbiage,  the  accumulated  adjectives,  the  poet- 
ical quotations  were  overpowering.  I  seemed 
actually  sinking  into  luscious  mellifluousness. 
I  shook  it  off  my  fingers,  as  if  it  were  maple 
syrup.  Then,  as  he  climbed  higher  and  higher, 
on  and  up,  never  getting  away  from  the  richest 
verdure  and  the  sweetest  flowers,  scenes  for  an 
artist  to  paint  with  rapture,  and  a  poet  to  sing 
in  ecstasy,  I  found  myself  pushing  up  my  fore- 
head to  improvise  a  mansard  roof  for  my  brain 
to  swell  in  sympathy.  And  when  he  reached 
the  summit  and  the  panorama  burst  upon  his 
enraptured  vision,  it  was  too  much  for  my 
strained  emotions,  and  I  quietly  slipped  out. 

And  the  strangest  part  is  that  every  word  is 
true,  and,  say  what  one  will,  one  never  gets 
near  the  reality.  In  this  respect,  you  see,  it 
differs  from  a  floral  catalogue  sent  out  in  early 
spring,  or  a  hotel  pamphlet  with  illustrations. 

The  cable  road  is  3000  feet  long,  with  a 
direct  ascent  of  1400  feet,  and  the  Echo  Moun- 
tain House  will  be  1500  feet  higher  than  the 


pasaDena.  73 

Catskill  hotels  overlooking  the  Hudson,  and  it 
is  estimated  that  not  less  than  60,000  fares  will 
be  collected  upon  this  mountain  railroad  the 
first  year. 

All  this  was  designed  and  executed  by  Pro- 
fessor Lowe,  of  aeronaut  fame,  a  scientist  and 
banker,  the  inventor  of  water-gas  and  artificial 
ice,  and  a  man  of  great  business  ability. 

One  of  the  best  proofs  of  the  health-giving 
power  of  this  air  is  the  fact  that  the  ph3'sicians 
practising  here,  with  one  exception,  came  se- 
riously ill  and  have  not  only  recovered,  but  are 
strong  enough  to  keep  very  busy  helping  others. 

Pasadena  has  no  ragged  shabby  outskirts ; 
the  poorer  classes  seem  to  be  able  to  own  or 
rent  pretty  little  homes,  some  like  large  bird- 
cages, all  well  kept  and  attractive.  Some  gen- 
tlemen from  Indianapolis  came  here  in  1873 
and  started  the  town,  planting  their  orange 
orchards  under  the  shadows  of  the  mountains. 

Each  portion  has  its  own  attractions.  Orange 
Grove  Avenue,  a  street  over  a  mile  long,  is 
described  by  its  name.  Great  trees  stand  in 
the  centre  of  the  street,  a  fine  road  on  either 


74  a  XTrutbtul  Moman, 

side,  and  the  homes  are  embowered  in  flowers 
and  palms,  while  hedges  are  made  of  the  pome- 
granate, the  honeysuckle,  and  even  the  helio- 
trope. Marengo  Avenue  is  lined  on  either  side 
by  splendid  specimens  of  the  pepper,  the  pret- 
tiest and  most  graceful  of  all  trees  here.  Col- 
orado Street,  with  its  homes  and  shops  and 
churches,  leads  out  to  the  foot-hills  and  "Alta- 
dena,"  which  is  often  spoken  of  as  recalling  the 
handsome  residences  along  the  Riviera. 

The  street  cars  which  go  from  the  station 
toward  the  mountains  bear  on  each  the  words, 
"  This  Car  for  the  Poppy  Fields,"  and  they  are 
a  sight  worth  seeing.  Mrs.  Kellog  describes 
this  flower  more  perfectly  than  any  artist  could 
paint  it:  "Think  of  finest  gold,  of  clearest 
lemon,  of  deepest  orange  on  silkiest  texture, 
just  bedewed  with  a  frost-like  sheen,  a  silvery 
film,  and  you  have  a  faint  impression  of  what 
an  eschscholtzia  is.  Multiply  this  impression 
by  acres  of  waving  color."  And  in  February 
this  may  sometimes  be  seen.  It  has  been  well 
chosen  for  the  State  flower. 

If  consumptives  must  go  away  from  the  com- 


Ipasa&ena.  75 

forts  of  home,  this  is  a  haven  of  rest  for  them. 
In  a  late  Medical  Record  I  see  that  a  physi- 
cian deprecates  the  custom  of  sending  hopeless 
cases  to  the  high  altitudes  of  Colorado,  where 
the  poor  victim  gasps  out  a  few  weeks  or 
months  of  existence.  "  If  such  cases  as  the 
above  must  be  sent  from  home,  as  we  some- 
times think  here,  to  rid  their  home  physicians 
of  the  annoyance  of  their  presence,  they  should 
be  sent  to  Florida  or  Southern  California,  where 
at  least  they  may  be  chloroformed  off  into  eter- 
nity by  a  soothing  climate,  and  not  suffer  an 
actual  shortening  of  their  days  from  a  climate 
acting  on  a  radically  different  principle  and  en- 
tirely unsuited  to  them." 

This  is  a  bit  of  the  shady  side  after  all  the 
sunlight.  It  is  a  place  for  the  invalid  to  rejoice 
in,  and  those  in  robust  health  can  find  enough 
to  do  to  employ  all  their  energies. 

The  "  Toiu'nament  of  Roses  "  last  winter  was 
a  grand  success,  praised  by  all.  The  "  Pageant 
of  Roses"  was  celebrated  here  lately,  and  I 
cannot  give  you  a  better  idea  of  it  than  by 
copying  the  synopsis. 


76  B  Urutbtul  Moman. 

Imagine  the  opera-house  trimmed  inside  with 
wreaths  and  festoons  and  bouquets  of  roses — a 
picture  in  itself ;  audiertce  in  full  evening  dress, 
each  lady  carrying  roses,  each  man  with  a  rose 
for  a  boutonniere. 

The  dancing  in  costume  was  exquisitely 
graceful,  and  the  evolutions  and  figures  admi- 
rably exact — no  mistake,  nothing  amateurish 
about  the  whole  performance. 

Part  First. 

Los  Flores,  a  garden  in  the  Crown  of  the  Valley. 
Goddess  Flora  and  her  pages  asleep.  Harlequin,  the 
magic  spirit,  enters,  produces  by  incantation  the  rain  and 
summons  the  maiden  Spring,  who  rouses  the  Goddess 
and  her  pages.  The  Goddess  commands  the  Harlequin 
to  usher  in  the  Pageant  of  Roses.  Enter  the  Red  or 
Colonial  Roses  ;  march  and  form  for  the  reception  and 
dance  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Minuet.  Retire.  Harlequin, 
at  the  request  of  the  Goddess,  summons  the  Gold  of 
Ophirs,  bearing  urn  as  offering  to  the  Goddess,  when  is 
performed  the  dance  of  the  Orient,  including  solo.  Cur- 
tain falls  on  tableau. 

Part  Second. 

Same  garden.  Goddess  on  her  throne,  surrounded  by 
her  pages.  She  summons  the  Harlequin,  who  in  turn 
brings  the  Roses  of  Castile.  They  bring  offering  of 
flowers  to  the  Goddess,  and  perform  a  dance. 


Ipasa^ena.  77 

Goddess  again  summons  Harlequin,  who,  by  great 
effort,  brings  the  Roses  of  the  Snow,  or  the  Little  Girls 
from  Boston,  led  by  Frost  Maiden.  They  perform  a 
dance  and  retire.  Both  Harlequins  enter,  perform  a 
dance,  and  command  the  blooming  of  the  Pink  Rose 
Buds.  Pink  Rose  Buds  enter  without  offering  for  the 
Goddess,  and  prevail  upon  the  Harlequins  to  help  them 
out  of  their  difficulties.  The  Harlequins  send  Poppies 
for  the  great  La  France  Rose  Buds  as  an  offering,  and 
perform  ' '  The  Transformation  of  the  Rose. "  Rose  Buds 
dance  and  are  joined  by  the  little  Roses  in  the  Snow. 
All  dance  and  retire.  Enter  White  Harlequin,  who 
calls  for  the  White  Rose  dance  by  the  Greek  maidens. 
They  perform  ceremonies  and  deck  the  altar  of  their 
Goddess,  dance  and  retire.     Curtain. 

Part  Third, 
Grand  march.     Tableau,  with  falling  Rose  petals,  in 
the  magic  caiion. 

And  not  a  word  yet  of  The  Raymond,  that 
popular  house  set  upon  a  hill  that  commands  a 
view  hard  to  equal.  The  house  is  always  filled 
to  overflowing,  and  this  year  General  Went- 
worth  tells  me  the  business  has  been  better  than 
ever.  This  famous  resort  is  in  East  Pasadena, 
and  has  its  own  station.  It  is  always  closed  in 
April,  just  at  the  time  when  there  is  the  most  to 
see  and  enjoy,  and  the  flowers  are  left  to  bloom 
unseen. 


78  B  ^rutbful  Moman. 

The  other  fine  hotel  here,  named  for  its 
owner,  Colonel  Green  of  "August  Flower" 
fame,  is  on  ground  eight  feet  higher,  although 
by  the  conformation  of  the  land  it  does  not 
look  so. 

Many  prefer  to  be  in  the  town  and  nearer 
the  mountains,  and  this  house  proving  insuffi- 
cient for  its  patrons,  an  addition  four  times  the 
size  of  the  present  building  is  being  added 
in  semi-Moorish  architecture,  at  a  cost  of 
$300,000. 

That  item  shows  what  an  experienced  man 
of  business  thinks  about  the  future  of  Pasadena. 

The  town  is  full  of  pleasant  boarding-houses, 
as  Mrs.  Dexter's,  Mrs.  Bangs's,  and  Mrs.  Rob- 
erts's, and  many  enjoy  having  rooms  at  one 
house  arid  taking  meals  at  another.  You  can 
spend  as  much  or  as  little  as  you  choose.  At 
Mrs.  Snyder's  I  found  simple  but  delicious  old- 
fashioned  home-cooking  at  most  reasonable 
rates. 

And  still  more  ?  Yes,  the  Public  Library 
must  be  mentioned,  the  valuable  collections  I 
was  permitted  to  see,  the  old  mission  of  San 


Ipasabena.  79 

Gabriel  three  miles  away,  and  then  I  shall  give 
the  next  chapter  to  my  brother,  who  spent  a 
week  on  Mt.  Wilson,  and  came  down  wonder- 
fully benefited  even  by  that  short  stay.  One 
invalid  he  met  there  had  gained  four  pounds  in 
as  many  days.  His  ambition  now  is  to  open  a 
law  office  up  among  the  clouds  and  transact 
business  by  telephone,  saying  the  fact  that  his 
clients  could  not  see  him  would  be  no  disad- 
vantage. 

While  he  is  discoursing  I  will  be  studying  the 
history  of  the  Indian  baskets  and  report  later. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CAMPING   ON    MOUNT   WILSON, 
"  On  every  height  there  hes  repose." 


T  Pasadena  the  mountain  wall  which 
guards  the  California  of  the  South 
stands  very  near  and  looks  down  with 
pride  upon  the  blooming  garden  below.  The 
mountains  which  belong  especially  to  Pasadena 
are  but  three  miles  away.  Their  average  height 
exceeds  slightly  that  of  the  Mt,  Washington 
range  in  New  Hampshire,  The  Sierra  Madre 
system,  of  which  they  form  a  part,  contains 
some  peaks  considerably  higher. 

Farther  to  the  East,  "Old  Baldy"— Mt. 
San  Antonio — raises  its  snowy  summit  to  a 
height  just  close  enough  to  ten  thousand  feet 
to  test  the  veracity  of  its  admirers.  It  is  about 
ten  miles  from  Pasadena  by  the  eyes,  but  would 
80 


Camping  on  /IDount  Milson.    si 

be  twenty  by  the  feet,  if  they  could  walk  an  air 
line. 

To  the  south  and  east  of  "  Old  Baldy "  is 
Mt.  San  Jacinto,  12,000  feet  above  the  Pacific, 
upon  which  it  looks,  in  the  far  distance. 

The  majestic  mountain  wall,  almost  bending 
over  the  homes  of  Pasadena,  with  their  vines 
and  fig  trees,  their  roses  and  lilies,  their  orchards 
of  orange  and  lemon,  and  the  distant  snow-clad 
peaks  ghttering  in  the  gentle  sunshine,  combine 
to  form  a  perfect  picture.  There  are  detailed 
descriptions  from  the  pens  of  those  who  feel  an 
unctuous  Joy  in  painting  the  hly,  kalsomining 
the  calla,  and  adding  perfumes  to  the  violet,  the 
rose,  and  the  orange. 

The  "  Pasadena  Alps  "  are  so  smeared  with 
oleaginous  gush  that  I  had  conceived  against 
them  a  sort  of  antipathy,  which  was  not  dimin- 
ished by  their  barren,  treeless  appearance. 
.  As  Nature  reasserted  herself,  this  artificial 
nausea  wore  away.  I  took  a  drive  to  Millard's 
Canon,  and  was  surprised  at  finding  a  charming 
wooded  road  winding  up  through  the  canon 
along  a  mountain  stream.     From  the  end  of 


82  H  Urutbful  XKaoman. 

the  carriage-road  we  walked  half  a  mile  to  a 
picturesque  waterfall  having  a  sheer  descent  of 
perhaps  forty  feet. 

This  revelation  inspired  a  drive  to  Eaton's 
Canon,  where  I  found  similar  attractions,  and 
which  led  me  to  the  new  Mt.  Wilson  trail,  or 
"  Toll  Road."  I  made  inquiries,  inspected  the 
small  but  substantial  mules  which  do  the  pedes- 
trian part  of  the  trip,  went  up  the  trail  a  short 
distance,  and,  after  many  assurances,  arranged 
to  make  the  ascent. 

In  fact,  this  trail  is  remarkably  well  built. 
It  winds  up  the  mountain  by  a  gradual  and 
even  ascent  of  nine  miles,  the  grade  nowhere 
exceeding  ten  per  cent.  There  are  two  camps 
near  the  summit,  open  all  the  year.  You  may 
return  the  same  day  or  stay  for  the  remainder 
of  your  life. 

Take  little  luggage,  of  course :  a  heavy  over- 
coat or  wrap,  and  a  small  grip.  In  the  winter 
the  nights  are  cold,  and  clouds  and  rain  are 
not  unlikely  to  present  the  compHments  of  the 
season. 

The  mountains  of  California  are  as  topsy- 


Campina  on  /IDount  MUson.    83 

turvy  as  its  rivers.  We  used  to  learn  in  our  phys- 
ical geographies  that  as  the  traveller  ascends  a 
mountain  the  large  trees  continually  give  place 
to  smaller — shrinking  at  last  to  stunted  shrubs, 
with  a  summit  of  barren  rock. 

As  our  mules  plod  up  Mt.  Wilson,  the  trail 
at  first  is  sandy,  and  the  mountain's  flanks  a 
barren  waste,  with  thin  covering  of  cactus  and 
chaparral.  Half  a  mile  from  the  starting-point 
appear  small  bushes,  which  grow  larger  as  we 
move  upward.  The  trail  turns  into  a  canon, 
and  becomes  a  hard,  cool  pathway  leading  up 
through  small  live-oaks  and  high  growth  of 
bushes.  We  begin  to  see  slender  pines  and 
larger  oaks.  Now  the  trail  leaves  the  canon 
and  winds  out  upon  the  open  mountain-side. 
Here  the  chaparral  is  green  and  flourishing. 

We  wind  abruptly  into  a  carion.  Bushes  of 
wild  lilac  overhang  the  path.  The  manzanita 
reminds  one  of  lilies  of  the  valley  transplanted 
to  California  and  growing  on  a  bush.  Down 
to  the  torrent  at  the  bottom  of  the  canon,  and 
up  its  steep  side,  are  large  pines  and  live-oaks, 
mountain  mahogany  and  cedar.     Near  the  sum- 


84  a  Urutbful  Moman. 

mit  we  wind  along  a  precipice  where  the  trail 
is  blasted  from  the  solid  rock.  Even  here,  any 
one  who  is  disposed  to  "  look  aloft "  will  see 
pine  trees  hanging  over  his  head  hundreds  of 
feet  above. 

The  summit  is  a  forest  of  towering  trees. 
On  the  topmost  ridges  are  the  monarchs  of 
the  mountains — oaks  three  and  four  feet,  and 
pines  four  and  five  feet  in  diameter.  Of  course 
this  increase  in  the  size  of  timber  is  noticeably 
uniform,  only  where  the  soil  and  natural  fea- 
tures of  the  mountains  favor  it.  But  the  sum- 
mit of  Mt.  Wilson,  at  least,  resembles  a  picnic 
ground  raised  nearly  six  thousand  feet  above 
the  sea.  The  air  is  light,  dry,  and  exhilarat- 
ing. The  ground  is  carpeted  with  pine  needles. 
Delicate  wild-flowers  are  seen  in  their  season. 
In  April  I  found  wild  peas  in  blossom,  hare- 
bells, morning-glories,  poppies,  and  many  varie- 
ties of  yellow  flowers.  I  also  saw  humming- 
birds, butterflies,  swallows,  and  squirrels,  and 
here  and  there  patches  of  plain  white  old- 
fashioned  snow.  It  is  a  novel  spectacle  to  see 
a  small  boy  snowballing  a  butterfly.  In  the 
spring  even  dead   trees   are   glorified  with  a 


Campfno  on  /iDount  Milson.    S5 

mantle  of  golden  green  moss.  It  covers  the 
trunks  of  some  of  the  living  pines,  making  an 
artistic  background  for  the  deep  green  of  their 
boughs. 

From  this  upside-down  mountain  we  look 
down  upon  rivers  flowing  bottom  side  up. 
And  that  is  California. 

As  to  the  safety  of  the  ascent,  no  one  need 
hesitate  who  is  free  from  settled  prejudice 
against  a  side-hill.  You  will  soon  let  the  reins 
hang  from  the  pommel  of  the  saddle.  One 
who  chooses  may  jump  off  and  walk  for  a 
change.  Only,  if  you  are  at  the  end  of  the 
procession,  be  careful  to  keep  between  your 
mule  and  the  foot  of  the  mountain ;  otherwise 
he  will  wheel  around  and  wend  his  way  home- 
ward. If  toiling  along  near  the  summit,  ab- 
sorbed in  the  beauties  of  the  prospect,  it  might 
be  awkward  to  feel  the  halter  jerked  from  your 
hand  and  to  see  the  mule  galloping  around  a 
sharp  bend  with  your  satchel,  hung  loosely  over 
the  pommel,  bobbing  violently  up  and  down, 
and  perhaps  hurled  off  into  space  as  the  intel- 
ligent animal  rounds  the  corner. 

Yes,  it  is  safe,  but  there  is  a  spice  of  excite- 


86  H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

ment  about  it.  I  was  nervous  at  first,  and  see- 
ing that  the  mule  wished  to  nibble  such  herbage 
as  offered  itself,  I  had  thought  it  well  to  humor 
him.  At  a  narrow  space  with  sharp  declivity 
below,  the  beast  fixed  his  jaws  upon  a  small 
tough  bush  on  the  upper  bank.  As  he  warmed 
up  to  the  work,  his  hind  feet  worked  around 
toward  the  edge  of  the  chasm.  The  bush  be- 
gan to  come  out  by  the  roots,  which  seemed 
to  be  without  end.  As  the  weight  of  the  mule 
was  thrown  heavily  backward,  I  looked  forward 
with  some  apprehension  to  the  time  when  the 
root  should  finally  give  way:  I  saw  now  that 
the  mule  had  fixed  his  stubborn  jaws  upon  the 
entrails  of  the  mountain,  and  expected  every 
instant  to  see  other  vital  organs  brought  to 
light.  I  dared  not  and  could  not  move.  The 
root  gave  way,  allowing  the  mule  to  fall  back- 
ward, and  startling  him  with  a  rattling  down  of 
stones  and  gravel.  One  foot  slipped  over  the 
edge,  but  three  stuck  to  the  path,  and  the  ma- 
jority prevailed.  After  that  I  saw  it  was  safer 
to  let  my  faithful  beast  graze  on  the  outer  edge. 
All  went  well  until  he  became  absorbed  in  fol- 


Campfng  on  /IDount  MilBon.    87 

lowing  downward  the  foliage  of  a  bush  which 
grew  up  from  below.  As  he  stretched  his  neck 
farther  and  farther  down,  I  saw  that  he  was 
bending  his  forelegs.  His  shoulders  sank  more 
and  more.  There  was  nothing  between  me 
and  the  sea-level  except  the  mule's  ears.  By 
frantic  exertions  I  worked  myself  backward, 
and  was  sliding  down  behind — too  late.  The 
bush  broke,  causing  the  mule  to  fall  back  forci- 
bly against  the  inner  bank,  with  myself  sand- 
wiched between  the  adamantine  wall  of  the 
mountain  and  the  well-shod  heels  of  the  mule. 
The  animal,  being  as  much  scared  as  myself, 
started  up  the  trail  at  a  gallop.  I  had  saved 
my  life  but  lost  my  mule.  I  have  no  taste  for 
overtaking  runaway  mules  on  a  steep  and  in- 
terminable up-grade.  It  is  a  taste  which  must 
be  acquired.  But  then,  of  coiu-se,  the  mule 
would  turn  after  his  first  alarm  and  tear  down 
to  the  stable.  I  resolved  to  push  on  in  the 
hope  of  finding  a  wider  portion  of  the  path,  or 
at  least  of  meeting  the  animal  before  he  had 
acquired  uncontrollable  momentum. 

At  the  very  first  turn  a  boy  appeared  hurry- 


88  a  XTrutbful  Moman, 

ing  back  with  my  palfry.  The  mule  had  gal- 
loped on  until  he  overtook  the  rest  of  the  party, 
who  had  sent  him  back  in  haste,  while  they 
followed  on  as  quickly  as  possible. 

It  flashed  upon  my  mind  that  the  mule 
understands  his  business.  We  imagine,  egotis- 
tically, that  the  mule  is  all  the  time  thinking 
about  us,  and  that  he  may  take  umbrage  at 
some  fancied  slight  and  leap  with  us  down  the 
abyss.  Now  the  mule  does  not  care  to  make 
the  descent  in  that  way.  He  is  thinking  about 
himself  just  like  the  rest  of  us.  We  are  only 
so  much  freight  packed  upon  his  back. 

The  foregoing  narrative  may  be  exaggerated 
in  some  details,  but  the  essential  facts  remain, 
that  the  mule  has  a  healthy  appetite  and  that 
he  looks  out  for  himself. 

A  little  further  on  I  had  an  opportunity  to 
judge  how  a  passenger  would  conduct  himself 
if  he  should  be  thrown  from  the  trail.  At  the 
point  where  the  slope  of  the  mountains  is  most 
abrupt,  certain  repairs  had  lately  been  made 
upon  the  trail,  and  a  man  was  now  prying  large 
stones  over  the  edge.     They  rolled  and  tumbled 


Campina  on  /IDount  Milson.    89 

down,  taking  wild  leaps  into  the  air  and  plung- 
ing from  rock  to  rock.  After  they  disappeared 
in  the  woods  we  could  hear  them  crashing  and 
clattering  down  the  canon.  A  small  avalanche 
of  broken  fragments  followed  in  their  wake. 

It  must  have  been  a  fine  sight  when  the  blast- 
ing was  first  done  in  the  side  of  the  rocky  preci- 
pice :  when  huge  masses  of  rock,  half  as  big  as 
a  house,  were  rent  from  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain and  thundered  down  with  frightful  crash, 
cutting  off  huge  trees  and  shaking  the  very 
mountains.  And  now  I  will  say  again  that  the 
trail  is  wide  and  safe ;  the  slopes  on  the  side 
are  seldom  very  steep,  and  the  mules  could  not 
be  pushed  over  by  any  available  power. 

Some  people,  in  fact,  prefer  the  old  trail  be- 
cause it  is  more  wild  and  romantic  and  not  so 
well  kept.  The  new  road  has  enough  pictur- 
esque features  to  satisfy  me. 

I  remember  when  the  valley  came  in  sight 
again,  after  half  an  hour's  climbing,  the  first 
objects  to  catch  my  eye  were  the  storage  reser- 
voirs, which  dot  the  valley  and  are  used  in  irri- 
gation.    Their  regular  shapes  and  the  margins 


90  H  Urutbful  Moman, 

of  masonry  about  them  give  them,  from  the 
mountains,  the  appearance  of  mirrors.  One 
seemed  ahiaost  directly  below.  Probably  it 
was  at  least  a  hundred  feet  in  length.  In  the 
form  of  a  rectangle  with  rounded  corners,  it 
was  the  exact  counterpart  of  a  framed  mirror. 
The  surface  was  like  polished  glass,  and  trees 
upon  the  bank  were  reflected  with  beautiful 
distinctness. 

After  another  half-hour's  ride  comes  a  glimpse 
in  the  other  direction.  Through  a  gap  in  the 
mountains  we  look  for  a  moment  behind  the 
hills  of  Pasadena  into  the  heart  of  the  Sierra 
Madre.  Vistas  of  mountain-sides  are  seen  on 
either  hand,  one  beyond  the  other,  the  long 
slope  of  one  slightly  overlapping  that  of  its 
nearer  neighbor,  offering  for  our  inspection  a 
succession  of  blue  tints,  becoming  more  and 
more  delicate  in  the  distance  till  they  melt  into 
the  sky. 

The  mules  care  less  for  visible  azure  than  for 
edible  verdure,  and  soon  carried  us  by  this  pic- 
ture. Far  up  the  trail  is  a  pretty  scene  upon 
our  own  mountain.     Suddenly  we  came  out  of 


Campino  on  /IDount  Milson.    91 

the  cool,  wild  forest  upon  a  little  level  spot,  by 
the  spring  of  the  mountain  stream.  Here  is  an 
old  camp  with  green  grass  growing  up  about 
the  deserted  building.  After  a  final  winding 
journey  around  the  steep  southerly  side  of  the 
mountain,  came  the  first  full  view  of  the  wild 
chaos  of  broken  ranges  toward  the  desert. 
Then  follows  a  gradual  shaded  ascent  to  the 
camp.  The  world  has  varied  panoramas  of 
mountain  scenery  "  set  off "  by  the  glitter  of 
snowy  peaks.  In  California  there  are  many 
accessible  summits  rising  from  half-tropical  val- 
leys. Mountains  which  overlook  the  sea  are 
without  number.  There  may  be  in  America 
other  points  from  which  one  may  look  down 
upon  a  "  city  of  homes,"  and  a  "  business 
centre  "  with  sixty  thousand  busy  inhabitants. 
I  do  not  know  any  spot  apart  from  the  moun- 
tains of  Pasadena  where  you  may  put  all  of 
these  in  combination;  From  the  northerly 
peak  of  Mt.  Wilson  to  the  southerly  peak  of 
Mt.  Harvard  is  a  distance  by  trail  along  the 
ridge  of  perhaps  three  miles,  offering  a  variety 
of  points  of  view.     To  the  north  and  east  you 


H  Urutbtul  Moman. 


may  look  down  into  a  gorge  two  thousand  feet 
beneath,  from  which  rises  on  the  gentle  breeze 
the  mingled  voice  of  brawling  brook  and  mur- 
muring pines.  Beyond  is  a  confusion  of  green 
mountains,  from  which  a  range  of  white  sum- 
mits rises  in  the  calm  distance.  Toward  the 
south  are  solitary  peaks  with  halos  of  fleecy 
cloud. 

As  for  the  prospect  in  the  other  direction,  it 
shows  at  once  that  the  way  to  print  upon  the 
mind  a  map  of  California's  physical  formation 
is  to  see  it  a  la  bird's-eye — as  the  short  path  to 
acquaintance  with  a  great  city  is  a  vertical  one 
— to  the  tower  of  the  City  Hall. 

One  would  require  but  a  few  more  well- 
selected  stations  to  map  out  all  of  Southern 
California. 

The  several  valleys  of  which  I.os  Angeles  is 
the  commercial  capital  are  stretched  out  before 
us  like  perfectly  level  plains,  divided  by  ranges 
of  hills.  In  the  distance  lies  the  glistening  Pa- 
cific, with  the  blue  outlines  of  Catalina  and  more 
distant  islands  etched  upon  the  western  sky. 
This  picture  is  sometimes  so  distinct  that  you 


Campina  on  /IDount  Milson.    93 

find  yourself  trying  to  recognize  acquaintances 
on  the  streets  of  Pasadena.  Again  everything 
is  dreamy  with  haze.  Another  morning  you 
may  stumble  out  trying  to  rub  yesterday's  sun- 
burn from  your  eyes,  and  find  everything  below 
curtained  by  a  bank  of  snowy  fog.  As  for 
myself,  I  enjoy  the  prospect  most  when  I  can- 
not see  it  at  all — that  is,  at  night. 

There  is  a  varied  interchange  of  signals  be- 
tween the  mountains  and  the  valley.  At  noon 
the  people  here  talk  with  their  Pasadena  friends 
by  gleaming  flashlight.  Then  there  are  the 
reservoirs  scattered  over  the  valley.  In  certain 
lights  they  are  not  seen  at  all,  but  in  line  with 
the  sun  they  send  up  great  flash  signals  them- 
selves, and  just  after  sunset  they  are  always 
seen  reflecting  the  calm  twilight.  An  hour 
after  sunset  our  camp-fire  is  lighted.  As  we 
stand  by  it,  the  horizon  seems  to  have  retired 
for  the  night.  There  is  continuous  sky,  shad- 
ing without  a  break  into  the  shadows  below. 
Gazing  dreamily  down,  I  am  startled  by  the 
flashing  forth  of  a  hundred  brilliant  stars  from 
what  was  the  valley  below.     They  disappear 


94  H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

for  a  moment  and  then  blaze  out  and  become  a 
permanent  constellation.  These  stars  are  too 
numerous  to  resemble  any  known  constellation. 
I  concluded  after  a  little  that  the  mighty  Orion 
had  drawn  his  sword  and  slain  the  Great  Bear ; 
that  the  lion  had  rashly  interfered  and  his  car- 
cass had  been  dragged  to  that  of  the  bear,  and 
that  the  exhausted  Orion  had  thrown  himself 
wearily  upon  them  to  rest.  And  there  are  the 
Pleiades  close  by ;  with  feminine  curiosity  they 
have  come  as  near  as  they  dared,  to  see  what 
it  is  all  about. 

Those  wishing  a  scientific  explanation  of  these 
phenomena  must  consult  the  Pasadena  Electric 
Lighting  Company,  except  as  to  the  stray  Ple- 
iades, which  seem  to  have  some  connection 
with  the  lights  of  the  Raymond  Hotel. 

But  what  is  that  dim  and  curious  meteor 
slowly  moving  toward  the  spot  where  Los  An- 
geles used  to  be?  Perhaps  it  is  the  headlight 
which  heralds  the  coming  of  the  belated  over- 
land train.  Suddenly  I  see  out  of  the  dark- 
ness beyond  Pasadena  the  blazing  forth  of  a 
majestic  cross,  of  wavering,  uneven  outline,  but 


Camping  on  /IDount  XlXHilson.     95 

made  up  of  crowded  multitudes  of  sparkling, 
glittering,  scintillating  stars.  Los  Angeles  has 
substantially  the  same  system  of  street  illumi- 
nation as  Pasadena. 

You  will  note  that  I  have  abstained  from 
hauling  the  sun  above  the  eastern  Sierras  in  the 
morning,  and  from  tucking  it  under  the  Pacific 
at  night.  This  rearrangement  of  ponderous 
constellations  is  all  that  my  strength  and  my 
other  engagements  will  permut.  Those  who 
want  to  know  the  glories  of  the  sunset  and 
moonlight  must  climb  Mt.  Wilson  themselves. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CATCHING    UP    ON    THE    KITE-SHAPED    TRACK. 


jOT  the  kite-shaped  track  of  new-made 
trotting  records  and  pneumatic  tires, 
but  a  track  upon  which  you  may  pass 
a  pleasant  day  riding  after  the  iron  horse. 

The  route  extends  easterly  from  Los  Angeles 
to  San  Bernardino  via  Pasadena.  Beyond  San 
Bernardino  is  the  "  loop,"  which  will  take  us 
twelve  miles  farther  east  to  Mentone,and  around 
an  oval  curve  back  to  San  Bernardino.  Thence 
we  kite  down  to  Riverside,  then  southwesterly 
to  Orange,  and  so  up  to  Los  Angeles.  Leav- 
ing Los  Angeles  at  9  a.m.  you  may  return  by 
4  P.M.,  with  time  for  dinner  at  San  Bernardino. 
Taking  the  traveller  back  and  forth  across 
the  central  part  of  Southern  California  as  it 
does,  the  kite-shaped  trip  is  naturally  a  favorite 
96 


Ubc  1kite*Bbape5  Uracft.       97 

with  tourists,  and,  as  its  "catchy"  name  indi- 
cates, it  caters  to  that  element  of  travel.  One 
always  sees  also  anxious  and  eager  "pro- 
spectors" or  expectant  settlers,  who  lose  no 
opportunity  to  inquire  all  about  citrus  and  de- 
ciduous fruits,  and  prices  of  land  and  of  water 
for  irrigating  the  same.  This  exctu"sion  will 
show  you  the  heart  of  the  orange  belt  or  belts 
of  Southern  California,  especially  on  the  north- 
ern and  eastern  sides  of  the  "  kite." 

The  schedule  of  trains  allows  of  convenient 
stop-overs,  and  several  may  be  made  to  ad- 
vantage. 

Pasadena  and  Riverside  of  course  must  not 
be  passed  by.  A  short  stay  at  Orange  or  Ana- 
heim gives  an  interesting  glimpse  of  a  region 
where  orange  culture  is  combined  with  that  of 
other  citrus  fruits,  as  well  as  the  grape  and  olive. 

Aside  from  these  points,  the  most  interesting 
feature  of  the  trip  is  the  "  loop  "  beyond  San 
Bernardino.  The  towm  of  San  Bernardino  is  a 
thriving  business  centre.  Perhaps  it  is  on  this 
account  that  its  appearance  from  the  car  win- 
dow is  not  as  attractive  as  that  of  Riverside  or 


98  H  XTrutbful  Moman. 

Pasadena,  which  from  all  points  of  view  seem 
peacefully  embowered  in  half-tropic  foliage. 
But  away  from  the  railroads  San  Bernardino 
also  has  its  charming  residence  district,  with  the 
same  general  characteristics  as  its  sister  towns. 

Upon  the  "  loop  "  a  stop  should  be  made  at 
Redlands,  an  interesting  spot,  where  the  suc- 
cessful culture  of  oranges  is  carried  on  at  a 
much  higher  elevation  than  was  thought  possi- 
ble until  a  few  years  ago.  There  is  never  any 
frost  there  to  injtu^e  the  fruit.  The  Hotel  Ter- 
racina,  on  the  heights,  has  a  wondrous  view, 
and  the  Smiley  brothers,  of  "  Lake  Mohunk " 
celebrity,  have  fine  grounds  and  homes  on 
Caiion  Crest,  and  are  thinking  of  building  a 
hotel. 

The  circuit  of  the  "  loop "  reminds  me  of 
roving  around  upon  the  rim  of  a  very  large  and 
shallow  spoon,  tilted  upward  toward  Mentone 
at  the  smaller  end.  San  Bernardino  is  1075 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  Mentone  1640  feet. 
At  that  point  we  have  nearly  climbed  the  foot- 
hills, and  are  very  close  to  the  great  mountains 
themselves.     As  we  skim  around  upon  the  up- 


Xlbe  1kite=sbapeC)  Uracft.       99 

per  side  of  the  "  loop,"  the  long  gradual  slope 
from  the  foot  of  the  mountains  to  the  stream  at 
the  centre  of  the  valley  seems  an  ideal  confor- 
mation for  leading  the  irrigation  streams  from 
the  mountains  along  the  rows  of  orange  trees 
which  will  soon  entirely  cover  this  valley. 

Four  miles  from  San  Bernardino  is  the  station 
of  Arrowhead,  from  which  we  have  a  near  view 
of  the  peak  of  nature  which  gives  the  place 
its  name.  It  is  a  bare,  gravelly  tract  on  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  which,  in  contrast  with 
the  chaparral  about  it,  takes  the  shape  of  an 
Indian  arrowhead  with  a  portion  of  the  shaft 
attached.  Covering  a  large  area,  the  arrowhead 
is  a  landmark  for  many  miles  around.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  that  if  a  gang  of  Italian  labor- 
ers were  employed  for  a  few  days  sharpening 
the  outline  of  the  arrowhead  by  cutting  away 
bushes  along  the  edge,  and  setting  out  others 
judiciously  in  the  converted  background,  the 
effect  of  this  interesting  natural  phenomenon 
might  be  much  brightened.  There  are  hot- 
springs  at  Arrowhead,  and  a  hotel  renders  the 
varied  attractions  of  the  place  available. 


H  xrrutbful  Moman, 


While  we  are  kiting  along  let  me  tell  you 
what  I  know  about  baskets  made  by  the  Indian 
women  of  the  Pacific  Coast  of  now  and  long 
ago,  the  last  considered  valuable  and  now  com- 
manding high  prices.  There  are  several  experts 
on  this  subject  in  Pasadena — Mrs.  Lowe,  ex- 
Mayor  Lukens,  Mrs.  Jeanne  C.  Carr,  and  Mrs. 
Belle  Jewett,  who  has  the  most  precious  collec- 
tion of  all. 

Mrs.  Lowe  has  gathered  together  for  her 
Basement  Museum,  which  any  State  would  be 
proud  to  own,  all  that  she  could  find  of  special 
interest  relative  to  the  Indians  of  California — 
clothing,  headdress,  weapons,  medicine  charms, 
money,  beads,  and  of  course  many  baskets,  for 
baskets  are  as  indispensable  to  the  Indian  as 
the  reindeer  to  the  Esquimau.  They  were  used 
as  cradles,  caps  for  the  head  when  carrying 
burdens,  wardrobes  for  garments  not  in  use, 
granaries  on  roof,  sifters  for  pounded  meal,  for 
carrying  water,  and  keeping  it  for  use,  for  cook- 
ing, receptacles  for  money,  plaques  to  gamble 
on,  and  so  on.  And  the  basket  plays  an  im- 
portant part  in  their  legends  and  folk-lore. 


Ube  1kite*BbapeD  Uracft,      loi 

Mrs.  Lowe  determined  to  preserve  these 
specimens,  as  tourists  were  rapidly  carrying 
away  all  they  could  find  of  such  relics,  and  soon 
the  State  would  be  without  proofs  to  tell  how 
the  Indian  of  the  past  hved  and  fed  and  fought, 
bought  and  sold,  how  he  was  dressed,  and  how 
he  amused  himself. 

Mrs.  Ellen  B.  Farr,  an  artist  in  Pasadena  who 
is  famous  for  her  success  in  painting  the  pepper 
tree  and  the  big  yellow  poppy,  with  its  reddish 
orange  hne  changing  toward  petal  tips  to  pale 
lemon,  has  also  devoted  her  skill  to  pictures  of 
such  baskets  grouped  effectually — baskets  now 
scattered  all  over  the  world,  each  with  its  own 
history,  its  own  individuality,  and  no  duplicate, 
for  no  two  baskets  are  ever  exactly  similar. 

The  true  way  to  obtain  these  baskets  is,  go 
a-hunting  for  them,  not  buy  them  at  stores. 
They  are  handed  down  for  generations  as  heir- 
looms originally,  never  intended  for  sale,  and 
with  the  needles  used  in  weaving,  made  usually 
of  a  fine  bone  from  a  hawk's  wing,  and  the  gam- 
bling dice,  are  the  carefully  concealed  family 
treasures.     But  sometimes  by  going  yourself  to 


I02         H  ITrutbtul  Moman, 

see  the  aged  squaws,  or  paying  one  who  is 
famiHar  with  their  ways  to  explore  for  you,  you 
may  get  a  rich  return.  Baskets  are  of  all  sizes, 
from  the  little  beauties  no  bigger  than  a  teacup, 
woven  finely  and  adorned  with  beads  and  bits 
of  dyed  feathers,  to  the  granaries,  or  the  storage 
baskets,  holding  half  a  ton,  nine  feet  and  nine 
inches  in  circumference,  three  feet  deep.  Mrs. 
Jewett  showed  me  a  photograph  of  one  of  this 
sort,  in  which  she  sat  comfortably  seated  with 
her  six-foot  son  and  his  wife.  This  had  been 
in  use  more  than  fifty  years,  and  was  as  fine 
as  ever.  Her  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
baskets  represent  twenty-eight  tribes.  In  re- 
gard to  the  shapes  and  designs,  the  women  seem 
to  have  copied  straight  from  nature's  patterns, 
as  seen  in  acorns,  pine  cones,  seed  vessels,  etc., 
so  they  are  truly  artists. 

Figures  of  men  are  sometimes  woven  in : 
those  with  heads  on  represent  the  victorious 
warriors ;  those  decapitated  depict  the  braves 
vanquished  by  the  fighters  of  their  special  tribe. 
An  open  palm  is  sometimes  seen ;  this  is  an 
emblem  of  peace. 


TLbc  Ikfte^sbapeC)  Uracft,       103 

Willow  wands  and  stiff  long-stemmed  grasses 
are  gathered  and  dried  for  these  baskets,  then 
woven  in  coils  and  increased  as  they  go  on,  as 
in  a  crochet  stitch.  It  often  requires  a  deal  of 
coaxing  and  good  pay  to  secure  one  of  these 
highly  prized  "  Coras." 

The  women  were  as  devoted  to  gambling  as 
the  men,  and  made  flat  trays  for  this  purpose. 
The  dice  were  eight  acorn  shells,  or  half-walnut 
shells,  first  daubed  over  inside  with  pitch,  and 
then  inlaid  with  little  shells  which  represented 
money. 

I  saw  a  tray  and  dice  purchased  most  adroitly 
from  an  excited  gambling  party,  who  were  at 
the  time  too  much  intoxicated  to  know  exactly 
what  they  were  doing.  After  it  had  been  paid 
for  the  owner  was  implored  to  sit  down  and 
gamble  himself,  hoping  in  this  way  to  win  more 
money  and  get  back  the  board.  It  was  hard 
to  withstand  their  forcible  appeals,  but  the  man 
ran  away,  and  was  obliged  to  hide  all  night  for 
fear  of  assault.  Squaws  would  sometimes  bet 
pieces  of  flesh  from  their  arms  when  their 
money  was  gone,  and  many  of  them  have  been 


104         H  Urutbful  Moman, 

seen  with  rows  of  scars  on  their  carms  for  this 
reason.  No  basket  can  be  finished  by  an  In- 
dian woman  until  she  has  ceased  to  bear  chil- 
dren.    Then  her  work  is  done. 

The  Japanese  are  famous  basket-makers,  but 
they  do  not  far  excel  the  best  work  found 
among  these  untutored  workwomen. 

Most  curious  of  all  is  the  fact  that  a  savant 
connected  with  the  Smithsonian  Institute  was 
amazed  when  examining  a  "  buck,"  or  man's 
plaque,  to  find  it  almost  exactly  like  one  he  had 
brought  from  northern  India — similar  in  weav- 
ing, size,  and  shading. 

And  a  lady  told  me  that  she  could  make 
herself  understood  by  those  of  a  certain  tribe 
in  Mexico  by  speaking  to  them  in  Sicilian. 
Which  makes  me  think  of  Joel  Chandler  Harris 
and  his  embarrassment,  after  publishing  his 
stories  of  "  Uncle  Remus,"  to  receive  letters 
from  learned  men  at  home  and  abroad,  inquir- 
ing how  this  legend  that  he  had  given  was  the 
same  as  one  in  India,  or  Egypt,  or  Siam. 

The  art  of  basketry  is  rapidly  deteriorating, 
and  will  soon  be  lost  unless  Indian  children  in 


Ube  1Rite*sbapet)  Uracft.      105 

the  reservation  are  taught  something  of  the  old 
skill  by  their  grandmothers,  before  the  few  now 
living  depart  for  that  happy,  unmolested  hunt- 
ing-ground they  like  to  believe  in,  where  I  do 
hope  they  will  find  a  land  all  their  own. 

The  Mexican  drawn-work  is  seen  everywhere 
for  sale,  and  at  moderate  prices — so  moderate 
that  any  one  is  foolish  to  waste  eyesight  in 
imitating  it.  Each  stitch  has  a  name,  and  ii 
full  of  meaning  to  the  patient  maker. 

One  can  easily  spend  a  good  deal  for  curios, 
such  as  plaques,  cups,  vases,  napkin-rings,  plates 
and  toothpicks  of  orange  wood,  bark  pin-cush- 
ions, cat's-eye  pins,  etchings  of  all  the  missions 
in  India  ink,  wild-flower,  fern,  and  moss  work, 
and,  perhaps  most  popular  of  all,  the  pictures  on 
orange  wood  of  the  burro,  the  poppy,  and  pep- 
per and  oranges.  Or,  if  interested  in  natural  his- 
tory, you  can  secure  a  horned  toad,  a  centipede, 
or  a  tarantula,  alive  or  dead,  and  "  set  up." 

A  horned  toad  is  more  easy  to  care  for  than 

the  average  baby  alligator  of  Florida,  and  as 

a  pet  is  not  more  exacting,  as  it  can  live  six 

months  without  eating. 
8 


io6        H  ITrutbtul  Moman. 

"  Why  do  some  women  like  horrible  things 
for  pets? 

"  Mother  Eve  set  the  example,  and  ever 
since  serpents  have  been  in  the  front  rank  of 
woman's  eccentric  loves.  Cleopatra  was  fond 
of  tigers  and  ferocious  beasts,  but  she  turned  at 
last  to  a  snake  as  the  most  fitting  creature  to 
do  her  bidding. 

"  Centuries  ago  the  queens  of  Egypt  made 
pets  of  horned  toads,  and  the  ugly  little  reptiles 
became  things  of  state,  and  their  lives  more 
sacred  than  the  highest  ministers  to  the  coiu"t. 
Daughters  of  the  Nile  worshipped  crocodiles." 

A  very  intelligent  man,  who  has  every  reason 
to  speak  with  authority  about  the  tarantula  as 
found  in  California,  declares  that  it  is  not  dan- 
gerous. He  says  they  live  in  ground  that  has 
not  been  disturbed  by  the  plough.  Their  hole 
in  the  ground  is  about  three  fourths  of  an  inch 
in  diameter  and  twelve  or  fourteen  inches  deep, 
with  only  a  web  over  the  top.  Many  tell  us 
that  the  tarantula  has  a  lid  on  the  top  of  his 
house,  but  this  is  incorrect,  as  that  belongs  to 
the  trap-door  spider.     It  is  sold,  however,  here 


Zhc  IRite^sbapeD  Uracft.      107 

as  a  tarantula's  nest.  This  creature  dislikes  the 
winter  rains  as  much  as  the  tourist  does,  and  fills 
up  the  entrance  of  the  nest  in  October  and  No- 
vember, not  appearing  until  May.  The  greater 
number  are  found  on  adobe  and  clay  soil. 
Tarantulas  never  come  out  at  night ;  the  male 
sometimes  appears  just  before  sundown,  but 
the  female  is  seldom  seen  away  from  home 
unless  disturbed.  They  seem  to  have  a  model 
family  life.  Mr,  Wakely,  who  has  caught  more 
of  these  spiders  than  any  living  man,  does  not 
seem  to  dread  the  job  in  the  least.  One  man 
goes  ahead  and  places  a  small  red  flag  at  the 
opening  of  the  nest ;   the  next  man  pours  down 

a  little  water,  which  brings  Mr.  T up  to 

see  what  is  the  matter,  and  then  Mr.  \V 

quietly  secures  it  with  a  pair  of  pincers  and 
puts  it  in  a  bottle,  and  has  thus  succeeded  in 
catching  hundreds,  but  has  never  had  a  bite. 
(This  last  line  reminds  me  of  the  amateur  an- 
gler.) He  tells  me  that  there  seems  to  be  a 
general  impression  that  a  tarantula  will  jump 
into  the  second-story  window  of  a  house,  and, 
springing  upon  the  neck  of  a  young  lady  sitting 


io8         a  xrrutbtul  Moman, 

there,  will  kill  her  instantly.  He  has  never 
seen  one  jump  three  inches.  If  one  leg  is 
broken  off  nature  soon  provides  another.  The 
Te.xas  variety  is  believed  to  be  more  dangerous. 
I  do  not  know. 

There  are  rattlesnakes  to  be  seen  and  heard 
about  the  mountains  in  hot  weather. 

As  to  buying  precious  stones,  especially  opals, 
in  this  part  of  the  country,  I  think  it  is  wisest 
to  buy  opals  in  the  real  old  Mexico  for  your- 
selves, often  very  cheaply.  The  prices  rise 
rapidly  here,  A  water  opal,  however  beautiful, 
has  no  commercial  value.  It  is  but  an  impris- 
oned soap-bubble,  and  is  apt  to  crumble.  There 
are  stores  where  pretty  colored  stones  can  be 
bought,  but  the  majority  get  cheated  as  to 
price. 

But  we  are  not  paying  proper  attention  to 
the  "panorama."  Many  have  been  led  to 
settle  here  by  taking  this  picturesque  trip ;  and 
with  plenty  of  water  oranges  pay  splendidly. 
So  there  is  substantial  wealth,  ever  on  the  in- 
crease, in  these  new  towns. 

By  the  way,  were  you  ever  asked  to  be  a 


Ube  1Rite*BbapeC)  XTracft,      109 

"panorama"?  I  once  had  that  honor.  A 
lady  came  to  my  house  one  Sunday  morning, 
and  explained  that  her  husband  was  dreadfully 
depressed  over  a  fall  in  stocks  or  something, 
and  she  knew  I  could  be  "  so  amusing "  if  I 
chose,  and  wouldn't  I  get  into  her  carriage  and 
go  with  her  to  amuse  said  husband,  and  be  a 
sort  of  panorama  for  the  poor  man?  "  I  don't 
want  him  to  be  in  the  panorama,  "  she  said, 
"  nor  of  the  panorama ;  I  want  you  just  to  be 
the  panorama  by  yourself."  I  was  forced  to 
decline  this  singular  appeal,  glad  as  I  should 
have  been  to  cheer  her  dumpy  spouse. 

Why,  oh  why  is  it,  that  if  persons  have  the 
slightest  power  of  being  what  is  vaguely  called 
"  entertaining,"  they  are  expected  to  be  ever  on 
duty  at  the  call  of  any  one  who  feels  a  desire 
for  inexpensive  diversion  ? 

At  one  hotel  I  sat  by  the  side  of  an  odd  old 
man,  a  retired  tobacco  merchant  of  great  wealth, 
who  was  ready  for  conversation  with  all  new- 
comers, and  who  seemed  to  feel  that  I  was  not 
doing  my  full  share  as  an  entertainer  for  the 
masses.      He  also   had    the   unusual  habit  of 


no        H  xrrutbtul  imoman, 

speaking  his  thoughts  aloud,  whether  compH- 
mentary  or  otherwise,  in  frank  sohloquy,  like 
that  absent-minded  Lord  Dudley  whom  Sydney 
Smith  alludes  to,  as  meeting  and  greeting  him 
with  effusive  cordiality,  and  then  saying,  sotto 
voce,  "  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  ask  this  man 
home  to  dinner." 

But  my  friend  at  my  elbow  had  very  little  of 
the  sotto  in  his  voce.     He  began  in  this  way : 

"Ahem!  I  hear  you  can  be  funny."  No 
response  from  person  addressed.  Then  to  him- 
self :  "  I  don't  much  beheve  she  can  do  any- 
thing— don't  look  like  it."  To  me :  "  Well, 
now,  if  you  can  be  funny,  why  don't  you?  "  I 
could  not  help  laughing  then.  "Yes,  if  you 
can,  you  ought  to  go  into  the  parlor  every  night 
and  show  what  you  can  do,  and  amuse  us.  It 
is  your  duty.  Why,  I  told  Quilletts — you  know 
'bout  Quilletts?  awfully  funny  feller  ;  good  com- 
pany, you  see — says  I,  '  Quilletts,  I  like  you. 
Now,  if  you'll  stay  I'll  give  you  a  cottage,  rent 
free,  all  summer  (I've  got  an  island  home — lots 
of  us  fellers  on  it ;  great  times  we  have) ;  but 
you  must  agree  to  be  funny  every  night,  and 


trbe  Ikite^sbapeb  tTracft,      m 

keep  the  ball  a-roliin','  Now  we  want  you  to 
get  up  and  do  something  to  entertain  the  guests. 
We  want  to  be  amused — somethin'  that  will  set 
us  laughin'! " 

I  rephed:  "  Mr.  Brushwood,  I  understand  you 
are  a  dealer  in  tobacco?" 

"  Yes,  mum ;  and  you  won't  find  finer  to- 
backer  anywhere  in  this  world  than  what's  got 
my  name  on  it.  Here's  a  picture  of  my  store. 
Why,  Brushwood's  tobacker  is  known  all  over 
the  United  States." 

"  Yes  ?  Well,  when  I  notice  you  freely  dis- 
tributing that  tobacco,  bunches  of  your  choicest 
brands,  papers  of  the  very  best  for  chewing, 
cigarettes  by  the  dozen,  in  the  parlor  evenings, 
I'll  follow  on  just  behind  you,  and  try  to  amuse 
as  a  condensed  circus.  I'm  not  lacking  in 
philanthropy.  I  only  need  to  be  roused  by 
your  noble  example,  sustained  by  yoiu:  influ- 
ence." 

Brushwood  looked  disgusted,  grunted  his  dis- 
approval, backed  his  chair  out  from  the  table, 
and  as  he  walked  to  the  door  of  the  dining- 
room  many  heard  him  mutter,  "  She's  a  queer 


112         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

dick ;  don't  amount  to  much,  anyway ;  thought 
so  when  I  first  saw  her;   impudent,  too!" 

As  the  farmer  remarked  when  he  first  en- 
countered a  sportsman  dude,  "What  things  a 
feller  does  meet  when  he  hasn't  got  his  gun! " 

But  the  train  is  slowing  up,  and  see,  Judge 
Brown,  my  old  friend  of  The  Anchorage,  is 
looking  for  us.  No!  No  "  Glenwood  " ;  no 
"Arlington";  no  " kerridge  " ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

RIVERSIDE. 

Knowest  thou  the  land  where  the  lemon  trees  bloom, 
Where  the  golden  orange  grows  in  the  deep  thickets' 

gloom. 
Where  a  wind  ever  soft  from  the  blue  heavens  blows, 
And  the  groves  are  of  laurel  and  myrtle  and  rose?  " 

ES,  that  describes  Riverside,  and  reads 
like  a  prophecy.  If  Pasadena  is  a  big 
garden  with  pretty  homes  scattered 
all  through  its  shade  and  flowers,  then  River- 
side is  an  immense  orange  grove,  having  one 
city-like  street,  with  substantial  business  blocks 
and  excellent  stores,  two  banks,  one  in  the 
Evans  block,  especially  fine  in  all  its  architec- 
ture and  arrangements,  and  the  rest  is  devoted 
by  the  land-owners  to  raising  oranges  and  mak- 
ing them  pay.  You  will  see  flowers  enough  to 
overwhelm  a  Broadway  florist,  every  sort  of 
cereal,  every  fruit  that  grows,  in  prime  condi- 
"3 


114        H  tlrutbtul  Moman, 

tion  for  the  table  ten  months  out  of  the  twelve. 
Three  hundred  sunny  days  are  claimed  here  out 
of  the  three  hundred  and  sixty-five.  They  are 
once  in  a  while  bothered  by  a  frost,  but  that 
is  "unusual."  Before  1870  this  was  a  dusty 
desert  of  decomposed  granite.  What  has  caused 
the  change?  Scientific  irrigation  and  plenty  of 
it.  Or,  as  Grant  Allen  puts  it,  "  mud."  He 
says  :  "  Mud  is  the  most  valuable  material  in  the 
world.  It  is  by  mud  we  live ;  without  it  we 
should  die.  Mud  is  filling  up  the  lakes.  Mud 
created  Egypt,  and  mud  created  Lombardy." 

Yes,  one  can  get  rich  here  by  turning  dust 
into  mud.  It  is  said  to  be  the  richest  town 
"  per  capita  "  in  all  California  of  the  same  size, 
$1100  being  the  average  allowance  for  each 
person.  This  is  solemnly  vouched  for  by  relia- 
ble citizens.  And  they  have  no  destitute  poor 
■ — a  remarkable  record.  The  city  and  district 
are  said  to  enjoy  an  annual  income  of  $1,500,- 
000  from  the  fruit  alone,  and  there  is  a  million 
of  unused  money  in  the  two  banks. 

Irrigation  is  better  than  rain,  for  the  orange 
growers  can  turn  on  a  shower  or  a  stream  when- 


•Kiversi^e.  115 


ever  and  wherever  needed.  It  requires  courage 
and  faidi  to  go  straight  into  a  desert  with  frown- 
ing mountains,  big,  httle,  and  middle-sized,  all 
about,  and  not  an  available  drop  of  water,  and 
say,  "  I'm  going  to  settle  right  here  and  turn 
this  desert  into  a  beautiful  home,  and  start  a 
prosperous,  wealthy  city.  All  that  this  rocky, 
barren  plain  needs  is  water  and  careful  cultiva- 
tion, and  I  will  give  it  both."  That  was  Judge 
Brown's  decision,  and  the  result  shows  his  wis- 
dom. No  one  agreed  with  him  ;  it  was  declared 
that  colonists  could  not  be  induced  to  try  it. 
But  he  could  not  relinquish  the  idea.  He  was 
charmed  by  the  dry,  balmy  air,  so  different 
from  Los  Angeles.  He  saw  the  smooth  plain 
was  well  adapted  for  irrigation,  and  Santa  Ana 
could  be  made  to  furnish  all  the  water  needed. 
So  that  it  is  really  to  him  we  owe  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  these  orchards,  vineyards,  avenues, 
and  homes.  Where  once  the  coyote  and  jack- 
rabbit  had  full  sway,  land  now  sells  at  prices 
from  $400  to  $3000  per  acre.  There  are  no 
fences — at  least,  there  is  but  one  in  all  River- 
side.    You  see  everywhere  fine,  well-trimmed 


ii6         H  Urutbful  Momam 

cypress  hedges  with  trees  occasionally  cut  in 
fantastic,  elaborate  designs.  There  are  many 
century  plants  about  the  grounds ;  they  blos- 
som in  this  climate  after  twelve  years,  and  die 
after  the  tall  homely  flower  has  come  to  matur- 
ity. The  roadsides  have  pretty  flowers  planted 
all  along,  giving  a  gay  look,  and  the  very  weeds 
just  now  are  covered  with  blossoms.  Irriga- 
tion is  carried  on  most  scientifically,  the  water 
coming  from  a  creek  and  the  "  cienaga,"  which 
I  will  explain  later.  There  are  several  hand- 
some avenues  shaded  with  peppers,  and  hedges 
twenty  feet  high,  through  which  are  obtained 
peeps  at  enchanting  homes ;  but  the  celebrated 
drive  which  all  tourists  are  expected  to  take 
is  that  to  and  fro  through  Magnolia  Avenue, 
twelve  miles  long.  The  name  now  seems  illy 
chosen,  as  only  a  few  magnolia  trees  were  orig- 
inally planted  at  each  corner,  and  these  have 
mostly  died,  so  that  the  whole  effect  is  more 
eucalyptical,  palmy,  and  pepperaneous  than  it 
is  magnolious.  People  come  here  "  by  chance 
the  usual  way,"  and  buy  because  they  see  the 
chance  to  make  money.     You  are  told  pretty 


1Riv>ersit)e,  n? 


big  stories  of  successes ;    the  failures  are  not 
alluded  to. 

I  saw  a  large  and  prosperous  place  belonging 
to  a  woman  of  business  ability,  who  came  out 
all  alone,  took  up  a  government  grant,  ploughed 
and  planted  and  irrigated,  sent  for  a  sister  to 
help  her,  sold  land  at  great  prices,  and  is  now  a 
wealthy  woman.  If  I  had  not  passed  through 
such  depressing  and  enthusiasm-subduing  expe- 
riences as  an  agriculturist  in  the  East  I  might 
be  tempted  here.  I  did  look  with  interest  at 
the  ostrich  farms,  and  had  visions  of  great 
profits  from  feathers,  eggs,  and  egg-shells.  But 
it  takes  a  small  fortune  to  get  started  in  that 
business,  as  eggs  are  twenty  dollars  each,  and 
the  birds  are  sometimes  five  hundred  dollars 
apiece.  And  they  are  subject  to  rheumatism 
and  a  dozen  other  diseases,  and  a  blow  from  a 
kicking  bird  will  kill  one.  I  concluded  to  let 
that  dream  be  unrealized.  Did  you  ever  hear 
of  the  nervous  invalid  who  was  told  by  his 
physician  to  buy  a  Barbary  ostrich  and  imitate 
him  exactly  for  three  months?  It  was  a  capi- 
tal story.     The  lazy  dyspeptic  was  completely 


ii8         H  Urutbtul  Momam 

cured.  As  a  hen  woman  I  will  remark  en  pas- 
sant that  it  is  hare]  to  raise  poultry  in  this  part 
of  California.  The  climate  is  too  exhilarating, 
and  if  the  head  of  each  chicken  does  not  get  a 
drop  of  oil  at  once  it  dies  of  brain  disease. 

Corn  does  not  thrive.  Mr.  Brown  at  first 
put  down  ten  acres  to  corn.  It  looked  promis- 
ing, but  grew  all  to  stalk.  These  stalks  were 
over  twelve  feet  high,  but  corn  was  of  no  value, 
so  he  sold  the  stalks  for  eighty  dollars,  and 
started  his  oranges. 

The  English  are  largely  interested  here,  and 
have  invested  two  or  three  millions,  which  will 
pay  large  interest  to  their  grandchildren.  Their 
long  avenue  is  loyally  named  "  Victoria."  A 
thrifty  Canadian  crazed  by  the  "  boom,"  the 
queerest  mental  epidemic  or  delusion  that  ever 
took  hold  of  sensible  people,  bought  some 
stony  land  just  under  Rubidoux  Mountain 
for  $4000.  It  was  possibly  worth  $100,  but  in 
those  delirious  days  many  did  much  worse.  It 
is  amazing  to  see  what  hard  work  and  water 
and  good  taste  will  do  for  such  a  place.  He 
has  blasted  the  rocks,  made  fountains  and  cis- 


IRiversibe,  119 


terns,  planted  several  acres  of  strawberries,  set 
out  hundreds  of  orange  trees,  has  a  beautiful 
garden,  two  pretty  cottages,  and  some  day  he 
will  get  back  his  original  price  for  a  building 
site,  for  the  view  is  grand. 

Riverside,  while  leading  the  orange-produc- 
ing section  of  Southern  California,  is  not  ex- 
actly the  location  which  would  have  been 
selected  by  the  original  settlers  had  they  pos- 
sessed the  experience  of  the  producers  of  to- 
day. The  oranges  do  not  have  to  be  washed, 
as  in  some  other  places ;  they  are  not  injured 
by  smut  or  scale ;  the  groves  are  faultless  in 
size  of  trees,  shape,  and  taste  of  fruit.  One 
orange  presented  to  me  weighed  thirty-one 
ounces.  But  the  growers,  having  lost  $r,ooo,- 
000  by  Jack  Frost  several  years  ago,  are  obliged 
now  to  resort  to  the  use  of  lighted  tar-pots  on 
cold  nights  to  make  a  dense  smudge  to  keep 
the  temperature  above  the  danger  line.  One 
man  uses  petroleum  in  hundred-gallon  casks, 
one  for  each  acre,  from  which  two  pipes  run 
along  between  the  rows  of  trees,  with  half  a 
dozen  elbows  twenty  feet  apart,  over  which  are 


I20         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

flat  sheet-iron  pans,  into  which  the  oil  spatters 
as  it  vaporizes.  An  intensely  hot  flame  keeps 
off  the  frost.  This  I  do  not  hear  spoken  of  at 
Riverside ;  you  must  go  to  a  rival  for  any  dis- 
agreeable information.  At  Pasadena  their  severe 
winds  are  called  "  Riversiders " ;  at  Anaheim 
they  are  "  Santa  Anas  " ;  and  friends  write  me 
from  damp  Los  Angeles  to  the  dry  air  of  River- 
side, "  How  can  you  stay  in  that  '  damp ' 
place  ?  "  The  inhabitants  of  Riverside  do  not 
concede  that  Pasadena  is  a  place  for  orange 
growers.  At  Redlands,  luckily  above  frost  ter- 
rors, the  terrible  losses  at  Riverside  from  that 
trouble  are  profusely  narrated.  San  Diego  gets 
its  share  of  humorous  belittlement  from  all.  You 
hear  the  story  quoted  of  the  shrewd  Chinee  who 
went  to  that  city  to  look  for  business,  Avhere 
one  hears  much  of  future  developments,  but 
did  not  setde,  saying,  "  It  has  too  muchee  bym- 
bye."  Friends,  and  especially  hotel  proprietors, 
exclaim  in  disgusted  astonishment,  "What! 
going  to  Riverside?  Why,  there's  nothing  there 
but  oranges." 

I  find  more :  fine  and  charming  drives,  seen- 


IRiversibe, 


ery  that  differs  from  that  of  Pasadena,  "that 
poem  of  nature  set  to  music  beneath  the  sway- 
ing rhythm  of  the  pine  forests  of  the  lofty 
Sierra  Madres,"  but  is  equally  enjoyable  and 
admirable. 

Still,  above  all,  and  permeating  every  other 
interest,  is  the  orange.  As  to  dampness,  a  phy- 
sician threatened  with  consumption,  and  natu- 
rally desirous  of  finding  the  driest  air,  began 
while  at  Coronado  Beach  a  simple  but  sure  test 
for  comparative  degrees  of  "  humidity  "  by  just 
hanging  a  woolen  stocking  out  of  his  window 
at  night.  At  that  place  it  was  wet  all  through, 
quite  moist  at  Los  Angeles,  very  much  less  so 
at  Pasadena,  dry  as  a  bone  or  red  herring  or  an 
old-fashioned  sermon  at  Riverside,  Stockings 
will  tell!  (From  April  to  September  is  really 
the  best  time  to  visit  Coronado.)  I  experienced 
a  very  sudden  change  from  a  warm,  delightful 
morning  to  an  afternoon  so  penetrating  by  cold 
that  I  really  suffered  during  a  drive,  although 
encased  in  the  heaviest  of  Jaeger  flannels,  a 
woolen  dress,  and  a  heavy  wrap.  I  thought  of 
the  rough  buffalo  coat  my  uncle,  a  doctor,  used 


122         H  Urutbful  Moman, 

to  put  on  when  called  out  on  a  winter  night  in 
New  Hampshire,  and  wished  I  was  enveloped 
in  something  like  it,  with  a  heated  freestone  for 
feet  and  a  hot  potato  for  each  liand.  If  I  can 
make  my  readers  understand  that  these  sudden 
changes  make  flannels  necessary,  and  that  one 
needs  to  be  as  careful  here  as  in  Canada  as  re- 
gards catching  cold  from  night  air  and  these 
unexpected  rigors,  I  shall  feel,  as  the  old  writers 
used  to  say,  "  that  I  have  not  written  entirely 
in  vain." 

In  one  day  you  can  sit  under  the  trees  in  a 
thin  dress  and  be  too  warm  if  the  sun  is  at  its 
best,  and  then  be  half  frozen  two  hours  later  if 
the  wind  is  in  earnest  and  the  sun  has  retired. 
In  the  sun,  Paradise ;  in  shade,  protect  yourself! 


CHAPTER   X. 

A    LESSON    ON    THE    TRAIN. 
"  The  Schoolmistress  Abroad." 


LL  through  Southern  Cahfornia  I  hear 
words  of  whose  meaning  I  have  no 
idea  until  they  are  explained.      For 
instance,  a  friend  wrote  from  San  Diego  in  Feb- 
ruary :  "  Do  not  longer  delay  your  coming  ;  the 
mesas  are  already  bright  with  wild-flowers."     A 
mesa  is  a  plateau,  or  upland,  or  high  plain. 
And  then  there  are  fifty  words  in  common  use 
retained  from  tlie  Spanish  rule  that  really  need 
a  glossary.     As,  arroyo,  a  brook  or  creek ;   and 
arroyo  seco,  a  dry  creek  or  bed  of  extinct  riv^er. 
Alameda,  an  avenue. 
Alamitos,  little  cotton-wood. 
Alamo,  the  cotton-wood  ;   in  Spain,  the  pop- 
lar. 
Alma,  soul. 

123 


124         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

That  is  all  I  have  learned  in  A's.  Then 
for  B's. 

I  asked  at  Riverside  what  name  they  had  for 
a  big,  big  rock  that  rose  right  out  of  the  plain, 
and  was  told  it  was  a  "  butte."  That  gave  a 
meaning  to  Butte  City,  and  was  another  lesson. 

Banos  means  baths,  and  barranca  is  a  small 
ravine. 

Then,  if  we  go  on  alphabetically,  cajon,  pro- 
nounced cahone,  is  a  box. 

Calaveras,  skull. 

Campo,  plain, 

Cienaga,  a  marshy  place. 

Campo  sancto,  cemetery. 

Canyon  or  canon,  gulch. 

Cruz,  cross. 

Colorado,  red. 

Some  of  the  Spanish  words  are  so  musical  it 
is  a  pleasure  to  repeat  them  aloud ;  as : 

Ensenada,  bright. 

Escondido,  hidden. 

Fresno  means  ash. 

I  inquired  the  meaning  of  "  Los  Gatos,"  and 


H  Xesson  on  tbe  Urafn.      125 


was  kindly  informed  it  was  "  The  Gates,"  but  it 
really  is  "  The  Cats." 

Goleta,  the  name  of  another  town,  means 
schooner. 

The  Spanish  j  nearly  always  has  the  sound 
oih. 

Jacinto,  Hyacinth. 
Jose,  Joseph. 

Lago  is  lake  ;  pond,  laguna ;  and  for  a  little 
lake  the  pretty  name  lagunita.  "  Lagunita 
Rancho"  is  the  name  of  an  immense  fruit 
ranch  in  Vacaville — and,  by  the  way,  vaca  is 
cow. 

Madre  is  mother ;  nevada,  snowy. 

San  Luis  Obispo  is  San  Luis  the  Bishop. 

El  Paso  is  The  Pass. 

Pueblo,  a  town. 

Pinola  is  parched  corn  ground  fine  between 

stones,  eaten  with  milk. 
Pinoche,  chopped  English  walnuts  cooked  in 

brown  sugar — a  nice  candy. 

Rancho,  a  farm  ;  and  rio,  river. 


126         H  Urutbtttl  Moman, 

Everything  is  a  ranch  out  here ;  the  word  in 
the  minds  of  many  stands  for  home.  A  Httle 
four-year-old  boy  was  overheard  praying  the 
other  day  that  when  he  died  the  Lord  would 
take  him  to  His  ranch. 

Sacramento  is  the  sacrament. 

Sierra,  saw-toothed ;  an  earthquake  is  a  tem- 
blor. 

San  and  Santa,  the  masculine  and  feminine 
form  of  saint. 

As  the  men  who  laid  out  a  part  of  New  York 
evidently  travelled  with  a  classical  dictionary, 
and  named  the  towns  from  that,  as  Rome,  Syra- 
cuse, Palmyra,  Utica,  so  the  devout  Spanish 
explorer  named  the  places  where  he  halted  by 
the  name  of  the  saint  whose  name  was  on  the 
church  calendar  for  that  day.  And  we  have 
San  Diego  (St.  James),  San  Juan  (St.  John), 
San  Luis,  San  Jose,  San  Pedro,  Santa  Inez, 
Santa  Maria,  Santa  Clara,  and,  best  of  all, 
Santa  Barbara,  to  which  town  we  are  now 
going. 

The  Mexican  dialect  furnishes  words  which 


H  XesBon  on  tbe  Uraln*      127 

are  now  permanently  incorporated  in  our  com- 
mon speech ;  as : 

Adobe,  sun-dried  brick. 

Canon,  gorge. 

Tales,  rush  or  water- weed.  (Bret  Harte's 
Apostle  of  the  Titles^ 

Bonanza,  originally  fair  weather  at  sea,  now 
good  fortime  in  inining. 

Fandango,  dance  of  the  people. 

Corral,  a  place  to  collect  stock.  (A  farmer 
of  the  West  never  says  cow-pen,  or  barn- 
yard, or  farmyard,  but  corral.) 

Cascarones,  egg-shells  filled  with  finely  cut 
gold  or  silver  paper,  or  perfumes,  broken  on 
head  of  young  man,  in  friendly  banter  or 
challenge  to  a  dance. 

Burro,  small  kind  of  donkey. 

Broncho,  wild,  untamed  animal. 

Sombrero,  hat. 

Rebozo,  scarf. 

Serape,  blanket. 

Lariat,  rawhide  rope. 

Hacienda,  estate. 


128        H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

While  we  are  rattling  along  there  is  so  little 
to  see  until  we  reach  the  ocean,  that  we  may 
as  well  be  recalling  a  few  more  facts  worth 
knowing.  At  Riverside  I  learned  that  the  leaf 
of  the  orange  tree  was  larger  when  it  first  came 
out  than  later.  It  grows  smaller  as  it  matures. 
And  most  people  say  that  the  fig  tree  has  no 
blossom,  the  fruit  coming  right  out  of  the 
branch.  But  there  is  a  blossom,  and  you  have 
to  cut  the  fruit  open  to  find  it.  Just  split  a 
young  fig  in  two  and  notice  the  perfect  blossom 
in  the  centre. 

They  say  it  takes  two  Eastern  men  to  be- 
lieve a  Californian,  but  it  only  takes  one  East- 
em  woman  to  tell  true  stories  which  do  seem 
almost  too  big  for  belief.  One  man  got  lost  in 
a  mustard  field,  and  he  was  on  horseback  too. 

I  saw  at  San  Diego  a  tomato  vine  only  eight 
months  old,  which  was  nineteen  feet  high  and 
twenty-five  feet  wide,  and  loaded  full  of  fruit  in 
January.  A  man  picking  the  tomatoes  on  a 
stepladder  added  to  the  effect.  And  a  Gold  of 
Ophir  rose-bush  at  Pasadena  which  had  200,- 
000  blossoms.     This  is  vouched  for  by  its  own- 


a  %csBon  on  tbe  Urafn,      129 

er,  a  retired  missionary,  who  cannot  be  doubted. 
There  are  truly  true  pumpkins  that  weigh  256 
pounds  and  are  seven  feet  in  circumference ; 
cucumbers  seven  feet  long ;  seven  beets  weighed 
500  pounds ;  three  bites  to  a  strawberry ;  and 
the  eucalyptus  shoots  often  grow  twenty  feet 
the  first  year,  carrying  with  them  in  their  rapid 
ascension  the  stakes  to  which  they  were  tied. 
All  this  is  true.  But  here  are  two  stories  which 
may  be  doubtful,  just  to  show  what  anecdotes 
are  current  in  California,  "A  man  was  on  top 
of  a  California  pumpkin  chopping  off  a  piece 
with  an  axe,  when  it  dropped  in.  He  pulled  up 
his  ladder  and  put  it  down  on  the  inside  to  look 
for  it.  While  groping  about  he  met  a  man,  who 
exclaimed,  '  Hello!  What  are  you  doing  here?  * 
'Looking  for  my  axe.'  'Gosh!  you  might  as 
well  give  that  up.  I  lost  my  horse  and  cart  in 
here  three  days  ago,  and  haven't  found  'em 
yet!'  " 

"A  farmer  raised  one  thousand  bushels  of 
popcorn  and  stored  it  in  a  barn.  The  barn 
caught  fire,  and  the  corn  began  to  pop  and 
filled  a  ten-acre  field.     An  old  mare  in  a  neigh- 


13°        H  Urutbtul  Moman* 

boring  pasture  had  defective  eyesight,  saw  the 
corn,  thought  it  was  snow,  and  lay  down  and 
froze  to  death." 

As  to  serious  farming,  and  how  it  pays  in 
this  part  of  the  State,  I  have  cHpped  several 
paragraphs  from  the  papers,  and  will  give  three 
as  samples  of  the  whole.  I  desire  also  to  com- 
municate the  cheerful  news  that  there  are  no 
potato  bugs  to  make  life  seem  too  hard  to  bear. 

"raised  on  twenty  acres. 

"  How  much  land  do  I  need  in  California? 
is  a  question  often  asked.  The  answer  is  read- 
ily made :  as  much  as  you  can  profitably  and 
economically  work.  A  gentleman  has  made 
the  following  exhibit  in  the  Los  Angeles  Cham- 
ber of  Commerce :  '  Raised  on  twenty  acres  of 
ground,  2500  boxes  of  oranges,  1500  boxes  of 
lemons,  37,000  pounds  of  grapes,  2000  pounds 
of  pears,  35,000  pounds  of  apples,  15,000 
pounds  of  berries,  black  and  red,  1000  pounds 
of  English  walnuts.  Besides  nectarines,  apri- 
cots, plums,  three  crops  of  potatoes,  500  pounds 
of  crab-apples,  and  one  acre  of  alfalfa  kept  for 


H  3Le86on  on  tbe  Urafn*      131 

cows,  and  flowers  of  different  varieties.  These 
oranges  are  worth  on  the  trees  $3500,  the  lem- 
ons $3000,  the  grapes  $370,  pears  $30,  apples 
$75,  berries  $30,  walnuts  $80.  The  total  will 
be  $7085,  and  all  the  products  not  counted. 
That  surely  is  more  than  the  crops  of  a  half 
section  in  Kansas  or  Illinois  will  sell  for.' 
Every  one  may  not  do  as  well,  but  they  can 
approach  it,  and  if  they  do,  twenty  acres  is 
quite  enough." 

"profits  of  berry  culture. 

"  Speaking  of  the  profits  of  growing  straw- 
berries in  Southern  California,  the  Covina  ^^r- 
gus  gives  some  interesting  facts  and  figures. 
That  paper  says :  '  One  of  the  growers  stated 
to  us  that  last  year  he  picked  and  shipped 
from  three  acres  the  enormous  amount  of  four- 
teen tons.  These  berries  brought  as  high  as 
fifteen  cents  and  as  low  as  four  cents  per  pound, 
but  netted  an  average  of  about  eight  cents  per 
pound,  or  $2240.  That  would  make  an  acre 
of  berries  produce  a  cash  return  of  $746.66^^, 
which,  considering  the  shortness  of  the  berry 


132        H  Urutbful  Momam 

season,  from  four  to  five  months,  is  a  pretty- 
good  income  on  the  money  invested.' " 

"  PROFIT    IN    ALMONDS. 

"  M.  Treat,  an  authority  on  almond  culture, 
has  contributed  the  following  to  the  Woodland 
Mail:  'This  year  from  190  California  paper- 
shell  almond  trees  (five  years  old),  covering  two 
and  five-sevenths  acres,  I  gathered  3502  pounds 
of  nuts,  which  sold  in  Chicago  at  twenty-two 
cents  a  pound.  This  is  $316.82  to  the  acre — a 
little  over  $4  to  the  tree — iS^^  pounds  to  the 
tree.  When  these  same  trees  were  four  years 
old  they  averaged  about  three  pounds,  and  in 
eight  years  they  will  double  what  they  bore  at 
five.  They  will  at  eight  years  bear  full  40 
pounds  to  the  tree.  At  twelve  years  they  will 
bear  fully  100  pounds  to  the  tree  without  the 
least  exertion.  This  is  at  seventy  trees  to  the 
acre,  and  reckoning  at  twenty-two  cents  to  the 
pound,  $1540  per  acre.  Now  these  are  noth- 
ing but  plain,  bare,  raw  facts. 

"  'Almond  trees  live  and  do  well  for  fifty 
years,  and  in  some  places  in  Europe  when  fif- 


H  Xesson  on  tbe  Urain,      133 

teen  years  old  bear  from  150  to  200  pounds 
per  tree.' " 

At  Saugus  Junction  Mr.  Tolfree  has  estab- 
lished one  of  his  famous  restavu'ants,  where  I 
can  conscientiously  urge  you  to  get  out  and 
dine.     Every  course  is  delicious. 

Ventura  County  is  partially  devoted  to  the 
culture  of  Beans.  I  use  a  capital  because 
Beans  represent  Culture,  or  are  associated  with 
it  in  one  State  at  least,  and  the  very  meaning 
of  the  word  is  property,  money,  from  the  French 
Mens — goods.  I  wonder  how  many  of  my  Bos- 
ton friends  knew  that!  I  did  not  until  a  friend 
showed  it  to  me  in  Brewer's  phrase-book,  where 
I  also  learned  that  beans  played  an  important 
part  in  the  politics  of  the  Greeks,  being  used  in 
voting  by  ballot.  I  always  had  a  liking  for 
beans,  but  I  have  a  profound  respect  for  them 
since  viewing  the  largest  Lima  Bean  Ranch  in 
the  world,  belonging  to  my  friend  Mr.  D.  W. 
Thompson,  of  Santa  Barbara.  There  are  2500 
acres  of  rich  land,  level  as  a  house  floor,  bounded 
by  a  line  of  trees  on  one  side  and  the  ocean  on 


134        H  xrrutbtul  Moman, 

the  other ;  1600  acres  are  planted  to  beans,  and 
the  profits  are  nearly  $60,000  yearly.  Thirty- 
six  tons  of  beans  were  used  this  year  in  plant- 
ing. This  could  not  be  done  in  the  East,  but 
beans  do  not  need  to  be  "  poled  "  here,  as,  in- 
fluenced by  the  dreamy  atmosphere,  they  show 
no  desire  to  climb,  but  just  he  lazily  along  the 
ground.  Still,  there  is  a  deal  of  work  connected 
with  the  business.  Dairying,  building,  horse- 
shoeing, repairing  of  machinery,  are  all  done  on 
the  place.  "As  soon  as  the  spring  rains  are 
over,  eleven  gang  ploughs,  four  ploughs  to  a 
gang,  each  gang  drawn  by  six  horses,  plough 
about  seven  acres  per  day."  Then  the  harrow- 
ing and  planting  in  the  same  big  way.  During 
the  entire  summer  these  vines  grow  without  a 
drop  of  water,  freshened  daily  by  the  heavy  sea 
fogs.  Harvesting  and  threshing  all  done  by 
machinery.  The  steam  thresher  would  amaze 
some  of  our  overworked,  land-poor  farmers. 
About  one  hundred  and  twenty  carloads  of 
beans  are  annually  shipped  from  this  ranch,  re- 
serving the  tons  needed  for  seed. 

And  all  along  the  way  fine  ranches  are  seen, 


H  Xesson  on  tbe  Urain.      135 

where  beans  are  seen  growing  alone,  or  planted 
between  the  long  even  rows  of  fruit  trees.  Mr. 
Thompson  also  owns  a  large  hog  ranch.  But 
dear  me!  We  are  now  skirting  the  beautiful 
ocean  curve  which  leads  to  the  "Channel  City" 
— so  near  the  beach  that  the  waves  almost  touch 
the  rails  and  the  dash  of  the  surf  seems  under 
the  cars.  See  how  fine  a  situation!  The  coast 
line  taking  a  sudden  and  most  fortunate  turn, 
the  trend  of  mountain  range  and  plain  land  is 
east  and  west,  instead  of  north  and  south.  Shel- 
tered by  mountains  and  mesas,  and  nestled  in 
the  green  foot-hills,  with  the  ocean  breeze  tem- 
pered by  a  chain  of  islands,  making  a  serene 
harbor,  Santa  Barbara  has  much  to  make  it  the 
rival  of  San  Diego  and  Pasadena.  Pork  and 
beans  must  now  give  way  to  legend  and  ro- 
mance, martyred  virgin,  holy  monks,  untutored 
"  neophytes,"  handsome  Castilians,  dashing 
Mexicans,  energetic  pioneers,  the  old  Spanish, 
the  imported  Chinese,  the  eastern  element  now 
thoroughly  at  home,  and  the  inevitable,  ubiqui- 
tous invalid,  globe-trotter,  and  hotel  habitue — 
each  type  or  stratum  as  distinctly  marked  as  in 


136         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

a  pousse  cafe,  or  jelly  cake.  What  a  compari- 
son! I  ask  Santa  Barbara's  pardon,  and  beg 
not  to  be  struck  with  lightning,  or  destroyed 
by  gunpowder. — "  Yes,  to  the  Arlington,^^ 


CHAPTER   XI. 

SANTA      BARBARA. 

"  Saints  will  aid  if  men  will  call, 
For  the  blue  sky  bends  o'er  all." 


WEET  sixteen  and  an  "awful  dad." 
Santa  Barbara  and  Dioscurus.  Such  a 
cruel  story,  and  so  varied  in  version 
that  the  student  of  sacred  legend  gets  decidedly- 
puzzled.  The  fair-haired  daughter  was  advised 
secretly  by  Origen,  who  sent  a  pupil  disguised 
as  a  physician  to  instruct  her  in  the  Christian 
faith.  She  insisted  on  putting  three  windows 
instead  of  two  into  the  bathroom  of  the  tower 
to  which  her  father  sent  her,  either  to  prevent 
her  from  marrying  or  to  imprison  her  until  she 
would  wed  one  of  the  many  gay  young  suitors. 
These  three  windows  showed  her  belief  in  the 
Trinity,  which  she  could  not  have  learned  from 
Origen,  as  among  Christians  he  was  regarded 
10  137 


138        H  XTrutbtul  Moman, 

as  heretical,  and  his  followers  were  Unitarians 
and  Universalists  combined,  adding  the  cheer- 
ful theory  of  the  "  second  opportunity  "  and  that 
all  punishment  from  sin  would  have  an  end, 
yet  clinging  to  the  old  pagan  mythology  and 
believing  that  sun,  moon,  stars,  and  the  ocean 
all  had  souls — a  "  Neo-Platonist." 

Refusing  to  recant,  Barbara  was  arraigned 
and  condemned  to  death.  Her  energetic  pa- 
ternal evidently  had  heard  the  maxim,  "  If 
you  want  anything  done,  do  it  yourself."  His 
heavy  blows  fell  soft  as  feathers.  She  seemed 
in  sweet  slumber.  So  he  drew  his  sword,  cut 
off  her  head,  and  was  instantly  killed  by  light- 
ning from  Heaven.  Thus  ends  the  history  of 
two  "  Early  Fathers." 

But  sweet  St.  Barbara  will  never  be  forgotten. 
She  is  the  patroness  of  artillery  soldiers,  and 
protects  from  lightning  and  sudden  death.  In 
the  many  pictures  where  she  appears  she  carries 
a  feather,  or  the  martyr's  sword  and  palm,  or  a 
book ;  and  the  three  windows  are  often  seen. 
She  is  the  only  Santa  who  bears  the  cup  and 
wafer. 


Santa  ^Barbara.  139 

The  appreciative  Spaniards  honored  her 
memory  by  bestowing  her  pretty  name  on  the 
choicest  spot  of  the  coast,  a  belt  of  land  seventy 
miles  long  and  thirty-five  wide,  from  Point 
Concepcion  to  Buena  Ventura.  No  one  can 
dare  to  doubt  this  tragic  tale,  for  Barbara's 
head  may  still  be  seen  preserved  as  a  relic  in 
the  temple  of  All  Saints  at  Rome.  I  do  not 
want  to  be  too  severe  in  my  estimate  of  the 
Roman  noble,  Dioscurus.  An  old  lady  who 
never  spoke  ill  of  any  one,  when  called  upon 
to  say  something  good  of  the  devil,  said,  "  We 
might  all  imitate  his  persistence;"  and  this  im- 
pulsive demon  was  certainly  a  creature  who,  if 
he  had  an  unpleasant  duty  confronting  him,  at- 
tended to  it  himself. 

The  first  navigator  who  landed  on  the  coast 
of  Santa  Barbara,  or  on  one  of  the  four  islands, 
was  Juan  Rodriguez  Cabrillo,  in  1542.  He  is 
buried  on  San  Miguel  (pronounced  Magell). 
The  Indians  (and  the  entire  Indian  population 
at  that  time  amounted  to  22,000)  were  exceed- 
ingly glad  to  welcome  the  strangers,  much  bet- 
ter behaved   than  those   found  at  San  Diego, 


I40         a  Urutbful  moman. 

who  stripped  the  clothing  from  those  too  ill  to 
defend  themselves.  Perhaps  a  reason  for  this 
superiority  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that  these 
tribes  were  entirely  naked,  and  had  no  desire 
for  any  conventional  covering.  They  serenaded 
their  new  friends  so  loudly  that  sleep  or  rest 
was  impossible,  and  offered  their  most  delicious 
food  and  free  use  of  canoes.  They  ate  seeds, 
fruit,  fish,  locusts ;  hunted  rabbit,  hare,  and 
deer ;  dried  the  meat  of  the  latter  on  trees ; 
placed  acorns  in  a  sieve  basket,  rinsed  and 
boiled  them.  As  every  race  is  unhappy  with- 
out an  intoxicating  drink  and  something  to 
chew  or  smoke,  they  extracted  a  bitter  beverage 
from  a  certain  seed,  and  used  a  root  in  place 
of  tobacco. 

These  Channel  Indians  let  their  hair  grow 
so  long  that  they  could  make  braids  and  fasten 
them  round  the  face  with  stone  rings.  The 
visitors  spoke  of  the  "  Island  of  the  Bearded 
People."  They  had  substantial  brush  huts, 
supported  by  pillars  bearing  inscriptions  sup- 
posed to  allude  to  their  religion,  and  they  en- 
joyed dancing  to  the  music  of  bone  flutes.     For 


Santa  Barbara.  141 

gifts,  they  most  desired  red  calico  and  choco- 
late. 

Cabrillo's  men  found  a  primitive  temple  on 
one  of  the  islands,  and  in  it  an  unknown  god 
or  idol.  One  of  the  eight  original  tribes  had  a 
form  of  worship  strongly  resembling  a  Turkish 
bath.  The  men  sat  round  a  hot  fire  until 
drenched  in  perspiration ;  then  plunged  into  a 
pool  of  cold  water.  The  women  were  not  per- 
mitted to  be  devout  in  this  "  cleanhness  next  to 
godliness  "  manner.  It  was  a  luxury  and  pre- 
rogative the  noble  braves  wanted  entirely  for 
themselves.  (We  see  something  similar  in  our 
own  progressive,  enlightened  churches,  where 
women  are  expected  to  provide  and  pack  cloth- 
ing for  missionaiy  boxes,  attend  unfaihngly  on 
the  stated  means  of  grace,  visit  and  nurse  the 
sick  and  poor  members,  deny  themselves  for 
charity,  listen  reverently  to  stupid  discourses 
on  the  unknown,  dehvered  with  profound  cer- 
tainty that  approaches  omniscience,  but  are  not 
allowed  to  "  speak  out  in  meetin',''  or  to  have 
the  honor  of  being  represented  by  women  del- 
egates at  denominational  conventions,  or  clubs 


142         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

and  councils.  They  are  to  lead  heavenward, 
but  earthly  pleasures  and  honors  are  strictly 
"reserved "!      About  the  same,  isn't  it  ?) 

When  Father  Junipero  Serra  reached  Santa 
Barbara  on  his  mission-starting  pilgrimage,  he 
sent  for  Mexican  artisans,  who  taught  his  con- 
verts all  the  industrial  arts.  They  were  taught 
to  support  themselves,  then  a  piece  of  ground 
was  parcelled  out  to  each,  with  a  yoke  of  oxen 
and  farming  utensils.  Serra  formed  eleven 
missions ;  ten  were  added  later.  He  built  the 
great  aqueduct  which  is  still  used  in  Santa  Bar- 
bara. All  honor  to  his  memory!  "There  hn- 
gers  around  Santa  Barbara  more  of  the  aroma 
and  romance  of  a  bygone  civilization,  when  the 
worthy  Padres  set  an  example  of  practical 
Christianity  to  the  Indian  aborigines  that  we 
would  do  well  to  emulate,  than  is  found  else- 
where in  the  State." 

In  the  good  old  days  a  person  could  travel 
from  San  Diego  to  San  Francisco  and  not  ex- 
pend one  shilling.  The  Mission  Fathers  would 
furnish  saddle,  horse,  or  a  comfortable  bed, 
meals,  and  the  Spanish  host  would  leave  in  the 


Santa  Barbara,  143 

guest-chamber  a  small  heap  of  silver  covered 
by  a  cloth,  and  the  stranger,  if  needy,  was  ex- 
pected to  take  some  of  it  to  supply  his  wants. 

Would  you  like  to  see  a  specimen  of  the  In- 
dian dialect  used  by  the  "Bearded  People"? 
I  can  count  to  five  in  the  Siujtu  language — or, 
at  least,  I  don't  care  to  go  much  further :  paca, 
SCO,  masa,  scu,  itapaca ;  twenty  is  sco-quealisco ; 
and  to-morrow,  huanahuit. 

The  islands  are  now  only  occupied  by  flocks 
of  sheep,  sheared  twice  a  year,  and  paying  their 
owners  a  good  profit;  $100,000  one  year  from 
Santa  Rosa  alone.  The  wool  gets  full  of  seed, 
and  it  is  not  the  finest  quality,  but  this  is  coun- 
terbalanced by  the  quantity. 

Many  large  abalone  shells  are  found  on  San 
Miguel.  They  are  pried  off  with  a  crow-bar, 
the  shells  are  polished  for  sale,  made  into  but- 
tons, etc.,  and  the  meat  is  dried  and  sent  to 
China,  where  it  is  ground  and  made  into  soup. 
It  has  been  used  here,  and  pronounced  by  some 
to  be  equal  to  terrapin,  and  by  others  to  closely 
resemble  leather. 

These  islands  are  always  a  delight  to  look 


144        H  XTrutbful  XRaoman. 

upon.  As  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  varies 
they  seem  near  or  far  away,  clearly  defined,  or 
with  a  hazy  outline.  But  in  sunlight  or  shadow, 
mist  or  mirage,  they  are  ever  beautiful.  Within 
the  peaceful  channel  ships  are  safe  while  a  wind 
storm  rages  just  beyond.  The  government 
sends  big  war-ships  here  for  a  trial  of  speed. 
None  of  these  islands  are  now  desirable  for  res- 
idence. There  is  no  natural  supply  of  fresh 
water,  and  the  sheep  rely  on  the  moisture  left 
by  the  heavy  fogs,  and  on  a  certain  plant  which 
holds  water  in  its  cup-like  blossom.  I  hear 
that  at  Catalina  the  goats,  deprived  of  their 
natural  pabulum  of  hoop-skirts,  tomato  cans, 
and  old  shoes,  feed  on  clover  and  drink  the 
dew. 

That's  what  this  climate  does  for  a  goat.  I 
do  not  dare  to  make  many  statements  in  regard 
to  novelties  in  natural  history  since  one  poor 
woman  poetized  upon  the  coyote  "  howhng  "  in 
the  desert,  and  roused  hundreds  of  critics  to 
deny  that  coyotes  ever  howled.  And  a  scien- 
tific student  came  to  Santa  Barbara  not  so  long 
ago,  and  found  on  one  of  these  islands  a  species 


Santa  Barbara.  i4s 

of  tailless  fox,  and  hastened  to  communicate  the 
interesting  anomaly  to  the  Smithsonian  Insti- 
tute. It  seems  that  the  otter  hunters  trapped 
these  foxes  for  their  tails,  then  let  them  go. 

If  it  were  not  for  these  blunders  I  would 
state  that  roosters  seem  to  keep  awake  most 
of  the  night  in  Southern  California,  and  can  be 
heard  crowing  at  most  irregular  hours.  Con- 
sidering the  risks,  I  refrain. 

The  islands  were  named  by  a  pious  priest, 
who  made  the  map ;  and  those  we  see  in  look- 
ing out  from  Santa  Barbara  are  San  Miguel, 
Santa  Rosa,  Santa  Cruz,  Ana,  Capa.  San 
Nicholas  Island  is  interesting  as  having  been 
the  abode  for  sixteen  years  of  a  solitary  Indian 
woman,  a  feminine  Robinson  Crusoe,  without 
even  a  Friday,  who  was  left  by  mistake  when 
the  rest  of  the  Indians  were  carried  away  by 
order  of  the  Mission  Fathers.  Two  of  the  men 
who  at  last  succeeded  in  finding  her  gave  their 
testimony,  which  has  been  preserved ;  and  one 
of  them,  Charlie  Brown,  is  still  alive,  and  likes 
to  tell  the  strange  story.  It  seems  she  had  run 
back  to  get  her  child,  and  the  ship  went  off 


146        H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

without  her,  Nidever  tells  his  story  in  this 
way: 

"  We  scattered  off  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  apart.  She  had  a  little  house  made  of 
brush  and  had  a  fire  ;  she  was  sitting  by  the  fire 
with  a  little  knife ;  she  was  working  with  it. 
She  had  a  bone ;  all  came  up  and  looked  at 
her ;  she  had  a  heap  of  roots — that  is  what  she 
lived  on — and  had  little  sacks  to  carry  them  in. 
As  soon  as  we  sat  down  she  put  a  lump  of  them 
to  roast  on  the  fire.  Finally  we  got  ready  to 
go,  and  we  made  signs  for  her  to  come  with  us. 
She  understood  the  signs  for  her  to  come  with 
us ;  she  picked  up  her  things  to  take  them  on 
board." 

She  had  a  dress  made  of  duck  skins,  sewed 
together  with  the  sinews  of  a  seal,  with  needles 
made  of  bone — an  eye  drilled  through.  This 
dress  the  priests  sent  to  Rome. 

The  demijohn  in  which  she  carried  water  was 
made  out  of  rushes  and  stopped  with  asphaltum. 
She  was  making  one  of  these  water  bottles. 
She  heated  small  round  stones  in  the  fire  and 
put  them  in  the  asphaltum,  and  then  lined  the 


Santa  Barbara,  147 

bottle,  making  it  tight.  She  had  no  matches, 
of  covirse,  nor  even  a  tinder-box,  but  started  fire 
by  rubbing  two  sticks  together. 

She  said  her  child  was  eaten  up  by  wolves. 
None  of  the  Indians  understood  her  dialect ; 
finally  one  woman  was  found  who  could  talk  to 
her  a  little,  who  had  been  raised  on  the  same 
island.  The  woman  was  found  in  1853.  She 
seemed  happy  and  contented,  and  would  go 
round  to  different  houses  and  dance  the  Indian 
dances.  She  was  a  great  curiosity ;  twenty  or 
thirty  would  go  along  with  her.  Many  who 
were  sailing  by  would  stop  just  to  see  her. 

The  other  hunters  had  noticed  small  human 
tracks,  but  never  could  see  any  one.  At  last 
several  men  were  scattered  all  over  the  island, 
and  Charlie  Brown  was  the  first  to  discover  her. 
He  thought  at  first  it  was  only  a  black  crow  sit- 
ting on  a  whalebone.  I  give  his  version,  as  his 
language  is  far  more  picturesque  and  vivid  than 
my  paraphrase  would  be.     He  says : 

"  She  had  built  a  brush  fence  about  two  feet 
high  to  break  the  wind.  The  sun  was  coming 
in  her  face.     She  was  skinning  a  seal.     The 


148        a  Urutbtul  Moman. 

dog  when  he  noticed  me  he  began  to  growl.  I 
thought  if  she  should  run.  I  stepped  right 
round  her,  and  she  bowed  as  if  she  knew  me 
before,  and  when  the  Indians  came  up  they  all 
kneeled  down,  and  when  she  saw  there  was 
some  of  her  color,  she  held  out  some  of  her 
food  and  offered  all  some. 

"  I  took  her  by  the  shoulder,  and  I  said, 
'Varmoose,'  and  she  understood  at  once.  I 
took  everything  she  had,  and  she  took  a  big 
seal  head  in  basket.  We  all  had  something  to 
carry.  Then  she  had  a  little  brand  of  fire,  and 
she  took  that  away  and  wobbled  along  with  a 
strange  kind  of  a  step  like  until  we  came  to  a 
watering-place  about  fifty  feet  down  the  bank, 
and  they  all  went  down  there  and  she  went  too, 
and  she  sat  down  there  and  we  watched  to  see 
what  she  would  do,  and  she  washed  herself 
over ;  her  hair  was  all  rotting  away,  a  kind  of 
bleached  by  the  sun,  and  we  got  to  the  vessel 
and  she  kneeled  down,  and  we  had  a  stove 
right  on  deck  and  she  crawled  to  the  stove  and 
we  gave  her  a  piece  of  biscuit  and  she  ate  like 
a  good  fellow.     It  came  on  to  blow ;  old  man 


Santa  Barbara.  149 

Nidever  had  some  bed-ticking.  I  made  her  a 
dress,  and  gave  her  a  man's  shirt.  She  was 
tickled  to  death.  If  I  was  where  she  was 
she  would  hold  up  her  dress  and  point  that  I 
made  it." 

He  was  asked  how  she  happened  to  be  left, 
repeated  Nidever's  story,  and  added :  "  She 
found  they  were  all  gone,  and  commenced  to 
hollo.  No  answer,  and  hunted  round  and  saw 
the  tracks  and  found  they  went  to  lower  part 
of  the  island.  When  she  got  there  found  the 
vessel  going  away,  and  she  called,  '  Mancya- 
vina,'  but  it  never  came.  She  put  her  head  on 
the  ground  and  laid  on  the  ground  and  cried, 
and  they  never  came. 

"  The  priest  here  had  all  the  Indians  in  Santa 
Barbara  and  Santa  Inez  to  see  if  they  under- 
stood her.  They  could  understand  some  words, 
but  not  all.  She  got  baptized,  and  they  made 
her  a  Christian  and  everything.  A  steamer 
came  up  from  below ;  the  captain  offered  to 
take  her  up  and  show  her,  but  old  man  Nidever 
would  not  agree.  She  died ;  they  gave  her 
green  corn  and  melons,  and  they  were  too  much 


ISO         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

for  her.  She  made  knives  of  bone  and  wood, 
and  had  pointed  nails  for  catching  fish.  She 
had  ropes  nicely  twisted  with  sinews,  twisted  as 
true  as  any  rope-maker  could  make,  and  had 
bottles  made  of  grass,  and  dishes  of  wood  with 
handles ;  she  put  the  feathers  next  her  skin  to 
keep  warm." 

I  will  only  add  that  wild  dogs  were  numer- 
ous, and  she  tamed  them  for  friends.  The 
priests  called  her  Juana  Maria,  and  I  think  the 
name  of  the  island  should  be  changed  in  her 
honor.  I  doubt  if  Santa  Barbara  herself  could 
have  done  as  well  under  similar  circumstances. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HER    CITY    AND    COUNTY. 

"  Syrian  apples,  Othmanee  quinces, 
Limes  and  citrons  and  apricots, 
And  wines  that  are  known  to  Eastern  princes." 


X  walking  through  the  streets  of  Santa 
Barbara  you  may  still  see  the  various 
types,  but  not  so  clearly  defined  as  of 
old.  Holy  Fathers  still  intone  the  service  with- 
in the  massive  mission  walls ;  they  still  culti- 
vate the  large  garden,  from  which  woman  is 
sedulously  excluded.  But  the  faces  are  German 
and  Irish.  At  a  street  comer  two  men  are  talk- 
ing earnestly,  and  as  you  pass  you  get  a  glance 
from  Mexican  eyes,  dark  and  soft,  but  the  hair 
shows  Indian  blood.  A  real  old  Mexican  va- 
quero  rides  by  in  the  genuine  outfit,  well  worn 
and  showing  long  use;  next  a  carriage  full  of 
fashionable  visitors ;  then  a  queerer  combination 
251 


152        a  Urutbtul  Moman. 

than  the  Anglomaniac  with  his  trousers  legs 
turned  up  if  the  cable  reports  a  rainy  day  in  Lon- 
don. This  is  the  American  vaquero — usually 
a  short,  fat  man  with  dumpy  legs,  who  dons  a 
flapping  sombrero,  buys  a  new  Mexican  saddle, 
wooden  stirrups,  and  leather  riata,  sometimes 
adding  a  coil  of  rope  at  left  side,  wears  the  botas 
with  a  corduroy  suit  at  dinner  at  hotel,  and 
doesn't  know  at  all  how  comical  an  appearance 
he  presents.  The  very  next  to  pass  is  one  of 
the  pioneers,  who,  although  worth  a  million  or 
more,  puts  on  no  style,  and  surveys  the  mon- 
grel in  front  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye.  Every 
one  should  own  a  horse  or  pony  or  burro  here, 
for  the  various  drives  are  the  greatest  charm 
of  the  place.  Through  all  Southern  California 
the  happy  children  ride  to  school,  where  the 
steeds,  fastened  to  fence  in  front  of  building, 
wait  patiently  in  line,  like  Mary's  lamb.  But 
in  Santa  Barbara  you  see  mere  tots  on  horse- 
back, who  look  as  if  it  were  no  new  accom- 
plishment. I  believe  the  mothers  put  them 
on  gentle  ponies  to  be  cared  for,  or  safe,  as 
mothers  in  general  use  the  cradle  or  high-chair. 


1ber  Citg  auD  County.        153 

One  of  the  old  Mexican  residents  of  Santa  Bar- 
bara, when  over  eighty  years  of  age,  had  the 
misfortune  to  break  his  leg.  He  lay  in  bed  un- 
easily until  a  surgeon  could  be  summoned  and 
the  fractured  bones  set  and  duly  encased  in 
plaster.  He  then  insisted  on  being  carried  out 
and  placed  upon  his  favorite  horse,  where  he 
sat  during  each  day  with  patient  serenity  until 
the  damage  was  repaired  by  nature. 

The  drives  are  all  delightful.  You  cannot 
make  a  mistake ;  there  are  twenty-eight  drives 
distinct  and  beautiful.  Those  best  known  are, 
to  the  Mission  Canon,  to  the  Lighthouse,  to 
Montecito  and  Carpenteria,  Cooper's  Ranch, 
through  the  far-famed  Ojai  Valley,  and  the 
stage  or  coaching  trip  to  San  Luis  Obispo,  not 
forgetting  La  Vina  Grande  (the  big  grapevine), 
the  trunk  eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  foliage 
covering  10,000  square  feet,  producing  in  one 
year  12,000  pounds  of  grapes;  and  the  Cathe- 
dral Oaks.  I  jotted  down  a  few  facts  at  the 
Lighthouse  a  la  Jingle  in  Pickrvick  Papers: 
gleaming  white  tower,  black  lantern,  rising  from 
neat  Avhite  cottage,  green  window-shutters,  light 


154        H  Urutbful  Momam 

180  feet  above  sea-level,  fine  view  from  bal- 
cony, fields  of  young  barley  down  to  water's 
edge,  bluest  blue  in  sea  and  sky,  the  lamp  holds 
only  one  quart  of  oil,  reflectors  do  big  business, 
considering,  throwing  the  light  417  miles. 

The  keeper,  a  woman,  has  been  there  over 
thirty  years,  never  goes  away  for  a  single  night, 
trim,  quaint,  and  decided,  doesn't  want  to  be 
written  up,  will  oblige  her,  don't  believe  a  wom- 
an ever  did  so  much  good  with  a  quart  of  ker- 
osene daily  before.  Been  a  widow  a  long  time, 
heard  of  one  woman,  wife  of  lighthouse-keeper, 
he  died,  she  too  stout  to  be  gotten  out  of  the 
one  room,  next  incumbent  married  her. 

Montecito,  as  Roe  described  it,  is  a  village 
of  charming  gardens  and  green  lawns,  with  a 
softer  climate  even  than  Santa  Barbara — a  most 
desirable  situation  for  an  elegant  country  re- 
treat. I  had  the  privilege  of  visiting  the  home 
of  Mr.  W.  P.  Gould,  a  former  resident  of  Bos- 
ton, who  has  one  of  the  most  perfect  places  I 
have  ever  seen.  He  has  been  experimenting 
this  year  with  olive  oil  in  one  room  of  his  large 
house  for  curing  lemons,  and  has  perfected  a 


Iber  Clt^  ant)  Count)?,        155 

machine  which  expresses  the  "  virgin  oil "  with- 
out cracking  a  single  pit  or  stone.  This  is  a 
great  improvement,  as  one  crushed  stone  will 
give  an  acrid  taste  to  a  quart  of  oil.  There 
is  a  fashion  in  fruits  as  much  as  in  bonnets 
or  sleeves.  OHve  culture  is  just  now  the  fad. 
Pears,  prunes,  almonds,  walnuts,  have  each  had 
their  day,  or  their  special  boom.  Pomona  is 
headquarters  for  the  olive  industry.  Nursery 
men  there  sold  over  500,000  trees  last  year. 
The  tree  does  not  require  the  richest  soil.  Hon. 
Elwood' Cooper's  olive  oil  is  justly  famous,  but 
the  machinery  designed  by  Mr.  Gould  makes  a 
much  purer  oil,  pronounced  by  connoisseurs  to 
be  the  iinest  in  the  world.  The  olives  are  sun- 
dried  ;  the  ponderous  rollers  and  keen  knives 
of  the  masher  mash  the  fruit,  and  every  after- 
process  is  the  perfection  of  cleanliness  and  skill. 
There  is  a  nutty  sweetness  about  this  oil,  and  a 
clear  amber  color,  which  makes  it  most  desira- 
ble for  the  fastidious  invalid. 

This  new  process  has  been  purchased  by  a 
company  who  are  going  to  try  to  give  the  coun- 
try what  it  has  never  known  before — pure  olive 


156         H  xrrutbtul  Moman. 

oil,  free  from  a  bit  of  the  stone.  No  pure  oil 
is  brought  to  our  country.  The  pubhc  think  the 
price  too  high ;  they  prefer  to  buy  cotton-seed 
oil  at  thirty-five  cents  a  gallon,  and  this  is  adul- 
terated with  peanuts,  sunflowers,  and  so  on. 
This  will  do  for  the  masses,  but  the  best  is  none 
too  good  if  it  can  be  found. 

Few  appreciate  the  medicinal  value  of  olive 
oil.  Nations  making  use  regularly  of  this  and 
the  fruit  are  freed  from  dyspepsia.  A  free  use  in 
the  United  States  would  round  out  Brother  Jona- 
than's angular  spareness  of  form,  and  make  him 
less  nervous  and  less  like  the  typical  Yankee  of 
whom  the  witty  Grace  Greenwood  said :  "  He 
looks  as  if  the  Lord  had  made  him  and  then 
pinched  him."  One  does  not  see  the  orange 
groves  here,  but  the  lemon  trees  and  walnuts 
and  olives  are  an  agreeable  change — just  for  a 
change. 

"  Who  ever  thinks  of  connecting  such  a  com- 
monplace article  of  diet  as  the  lemon  with  the 
romantic  history  of  ill-fated  Anne  Boleyn?  Yet, 
indirectly,  she  was  the  cause  of  its  first  intro- 
duction into  England,  and  so  into  popular  no- 


Iber  Cits  anO  County*        157 

tice.  Henry  VIII.,  who,  if  he  rid  himself  of 
his  wives  Uke  a  brute,  certainly  won  them  like  a 
prince,  gave  such  splendid  feasts  and  pageants 
in  honor  of  the  coronation  of  Anne  and  of  their 
previous  nuptials  as  had  seldom  been  accorded 
to  queens  of  the  royal  blood.  These  kingly 
entertainments  were  in  turn  followed  by  the 
great  civic  feast  of  London,  for  which  the 
whole  world  was  searched  for  delicacies  to  add 
to  the  splendor.  At  one  such  banquet,  graced 
by  the  presence  of  the  royal  pair,  a  lemon  was 
introduced  as  an  elegant  novelty.  To  an  epi- 
cure such  as  Henry,  the  acquisition  of  a  castle 
in  France  would  have  proved  less  acceptable, 
and  such  was  the  importance  attached  to  the 
discovery — so  says  an  old  biographer — that  a 
special  record  was  made  of  the  fact  that  the 
cost  of  this  precious  lemon  was  six  silver  pen- 
nies." 

We  hear  nothing  of  irrigation,  but  almost 
everything  will  thrive  without  it.  The  soil 
grows  well  all  varieties  of  fruits  found  in  the 
Eastern  and  New  England  States,  besides  all 
the  semi-tropical  fruits,  as  guavas,  loquats,  per- 


158         H  Urutbful  Moman, 

simmons,  dates,  etc.  As  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jackson 
says :  "  Could  it  be  shown  that  the  primitive 
Eden  bore  as  many  fruits  pleasant  to  the  taste, 
it  would  add  a  new  pang  to  the  thought  of 
original  sin." 

The  number  of  native  trees  seems  small,  but 
trees  have  been  naturalized  here  from  eveiy  part 
of  the  world.  The  pepper  tree  is  from  Peru, 
also  the  quinine  tree :  from  Chili,  the  monkey 
tree  and  the  Norfolk  Island  pine. 

Mr.  Cooper  imported  the  eucalyptus  from 
Australia.  It  grows  rapidly,  and  is  planted  for 
windbreaks.  It  is  used  for  lirewood,  and  when 
cut  down  nearly  to  the  ground  will  start  up  with 
the  same  old  courage  and  ambition.  Its  roots 
are  so  eager  for  water  that  they  make  long 
detours,  sometimes  even  climbing  up  and  down 
a  stone  wall,  if  it  is  in  their  route,  or  into  a  well. 
From  the  same  country  comes  the  acacia,  the 
rubber  tree,  and  a  large  number  of  shrubs. 
New  Zealand  contributes  her  share,  and  to 
China  and  Japan  they  are  indebted  for  the 
camphor  tree,  the  gingko,  the  loquat,  and  the 
chestnuts.     To  South  Africa  they  are  indebted 


Iber  Cits  an&  County,        159 

for  the  silver  tree,  and  from  the  northern  part 
of  that  country  the  date-pahn  and  the  tamarind. 

One  sees  side  by  side  here,  and  in  Pasadena, 
trees  from  almost  opposite  chmes :  the  New 
England  elm  and  a  cork  tree,  a  cedar  of  Leb- 
anon and  a  maple  or  an  English  oak.  Then 
the  glorious  palm — twenty-two  varieties  in 
Montecito  Valley  alone. 

Sydney  Smith  said  of  the  fertility  of  Austraha, 
"  Tickle  her  with  a  hoe  and  she  laughs  with  a 
harvest."  But  in  California  even  the  hoe  is 
not  needed,  for  "  volunteer  crops  "  come  up  all 
by  themselves,  and  look  better  than  ours  so 
carefully  cultivated.  They  say  that  if  a  China- 
man eats  a  watermelon  under  a  tree  the  result 
is  a  fine  crop  of  melons  next  year.  And  I  read 
of  a  volunteer  tomato  plant  ploughed  down 
twice  that  measured  twelve  feet  square,  and 
bore  thousands  of  small  red  tomatoes. 

Alfalfa  is  an  ever-growing  crop — can  be 
garnered  five  times  each  year. 

And  as  for  flowers,  I  really  cannot  attempt 
to  enumerate  or  describe  in  detail.  There  are 
hundreds   of  varieties   of    roses.     They   were 


i6o        H  xrnitbfttl  Momam 

found  growing  wild  by  myriads,  and  have  been 
most  carefully  cultivated  and  improved.  One 
rose  tree  in  the  grounds  of  the  Arlington  Hotel 
has  spread  over  sixty  feet  of  the  veranda,  and 
three  lady  guests  have  climbed  into  its  branches 
at  once.  As  one  man  said  :  "  The  roses  here 
would  climb  to  the  moon  if  a  trellis  could  be 
provided." 

A  friend  sent  me  twenty-five  large  bunches 
of  the  choicest  roses  from  her  garden  one 
morning  in  April,  each  bunch  a  different  variety. 
Their  roses  are  shipped  in  large  quantities  to 
San  Francisco,  and  Chicago  has  her  churches 
decorated  at  Easter  from  the  rose  gardens  of 
Santa  Barbara. 

Honey  naturally  is  thought  of.  Apiculture 
here  is  a  great  business.  The  bee  has  to  be 
busy  all  day  long  and  all  through  the  year — no 
rest.  One  ingenious  fellow  proposed  crossing 
the  working  bee  with  the  firefly,  so  it  could 
work  all  night  long  by  its  own  lantern.  But 
this  is  better.  I  hear  wondrous  stories  of  bees 
getting  into  cracks  of  church  towers  or  upper 
Stories,  and  bulging  out  the  buildings  with  their 


Iber  Cftp  anb  County.        i6i 

accumulated  stores — positively  cartloads  of 
sweetness.  Think  of  honey  made  from  orange 
flowers  selling  at  five  cents  a  pound ! 

A  clergyman  writing  of  Santa  Barbara 
County  says  that  twenty-five  years  ago  all  their 
vegetables  were  imported.  Now  beans  yield  a 
ton  to  the  acre,  potatoes  two  hundred  and  fifty 
bushels  per  acre,  and  he  has  seen  potatoes  that 
weighed  six,  seven,  and  eight  and  a  half  pounds 
— as  much  as  an  ordinary  baby  ;  beets,  seventy- 
five  tons  to  the  acre ;  caiTots,  thirty.  Mr. 
Webster  once  declared  in  Congress  that  this 
State  could  never  raise  a  bushel  of  grain.  Corn 
yields  fifty  bushels  to  the  acre ;  barley,  sixty ; 
wheat,  thirty.  Others  give  much  higher  rec- 
ords :  corn,  one  hundred  and  thirty  bushels  ;  bar- 
ley, eighty  ;  potatoes,  four  hundred  ;  forty  tons 
of  squashes,  four  tons  of  hay,  sixty  tons  of  beets. 

I  have  spoken  of  stock-raising.  Dairying  is 
a  profitable  industry.  Poultry  farming  a  little 
uncertain.  If  interested  in  mining  there  is  much 
to  explore.  Just  in  this  county  are  fotmd  gold, 
silver,  copper,  asphaltum,  bituminous  rock,  gyp- 
sum, quicksilver,  natural  gas,  and  petroleum. 


1 62         B  XTrutbtuI  Moman. 

And  what  sort  of  a  climate  does  one  find? 
Santa  Barbara  is  an  all-year-round  resort.  It 
has  all  that  one  could  ask, 

"  The  mountains  look  on  Marathon, 
And  Marathon  looks  on  the  sea." 

It  is  a  perpetual  summer — sometimes  a  cold 
and  rainy  June,  sometimes  a  little  too  warm, 
sometimes  a  three  days'  sand-storm,  disagreeable 
and  trying ;  but  it  is  always  June,  as  we  in  New 
England  know  June.  At  least  it  is  Juney  from 
9  A. INI.  until  4  P.M.  Just  before  sunset  the  tem- 
perature falls.  Then  when  the  sun  goes  rapidly 
in  or  down  it  is  like  being  out  at  sea.  And  to 
a  sensitive  patient,  with  nerves  all  on  outside, 
chilled  by  the  least  coolness,  it  is  unpleasantly 
piercing. 

When  any  one  describes  Santa  Barbara  to 
you  as  a  town 

"  Where  winds  are  hushed  nor  dare  to  breathe  aloud, 
Where  skies  seem  never  to  have  borne  a  cloud," 

remember   that    this    applies    truthfully    to  "a 
Santa  Barbara  day,"  but  not  to  all  days.     Surf 


Iber  Citp  an&  County.        163 

bathers  go  in  every  month  of  the  year.  But 
this  does  not  alter  the  fact  that  a  person  would 
be  disappointed  and  consider  himself  deceived 
if  he  accepted  the  general  idea  of  absolute 
heaven  on  earth.  The  inhabitants  do  not  wish 
such  exaggerations  and  misrepresentations  to 
go  forth.  California  can  bear  to  have  the 
whole  truth  told,  and  still  be  far  ahead.  Who 
wants  eternal  sunshine,  eternal  monotony? 

The  temperature  during  the  day  varies  little, 
I  see  that  one  resident  compares  it  with  May 
in  other  parts  of  the  country.  I  think  he  has 
never  tried  to  find  a  picnic  day  in  early  May  in 
New  England.  He  .says  :  "  Our  coldest  month 
is  warmer  than  April  at  Philadelphia,  and  our 
warmest  one  much  cooler  than  June  at  same 
place."  They  did  have  one  simoon  in  1859, 
when  the  mercury  rose  to  133°,  and  stayed 
there  for  eight  hours.  Animals  and  birds  died, 
trees  were  blasted  and  burned,  and  gardens 
ruined.     But  that  was  most  "  unusual." 

Flannels  are  worn  the  year  round.  Average 
of  rain,  seventeen  inches.  There  are  sixty-one 
mineral  and  medicinal  springs  in  California  that 


i64         H  Urutbtul  Moman. 

are  already  famous.  Here  we  can  take  hot 
sulphur  baths,  and  drink  the  nauseous  water 
that  is  said  to  cure  almost  all  diseases. 

Farming  is  comparatively  easy.  But  grape- 
vines are  smitten  by  a  mysterious  disease  called 
"cellular  degeneration,"  and  phylloxera  ;  a  black 
scale  that  injures  orange  and  olive,  and  a  white 
scale  that  is  worse.  Apples  are  not  free  from 
worms ;  the  gopher  is  sure  to  go  for  every  root 
it  can  find.  There  was  a  serpent  even  in  the 
original  Eden.  The  historian  remarks :  "The 
cloddish,  shiftless  farmer  is  perhaps  safer  in 
Massachusetts."  I  think  of  experiences  at 
"  Gooseville,"  and  decide  not  to  buy,  nor  even 
rent  a  ranch,  nor  accept  one  if  offered.  "  Fly 
to  ills  I  know  not  of  ?  "      No,  thank  you  ! 

I'm  tired  now  of  agriculture  and  climate,  and 
will  turn  to  less  practical  themes.  You  sympa- 
thize. We  will  stop  and  begin  a  new  chapter, 
with  a  hope  of  being  more  interesting. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


IN    GALA    DRESS. 


"  The  sun  is  warm,  the  sky  is  clear, 

The  waves  are  dancing,  fast  and  bright ; 
Both  isles  and  snowy  mountains  wear 
The  purple  noon's  transparent  light." 

O  see  Santa  Barbara  at  its  best  you 
must  go  there  for  the  Floral  Carnival. 
Then  at  high  noon,  on  a  mid- April 
day,  all  State  Street  is  brilliantly  decorated  with 
leaves  of  the  date-palm,  pampa  plumes,  moss 
combined  with  tropical  foliage,  calla-lifies,  wild- 
flowers,  bamboo,  immortelles,  branches  of  pep- 
per trees,  evergreens,  lemon  boughs  laden  with 
yellow  fruit,  and  variegated  shrubs.  Draperies 
of  white  and  gold,  with  green  or  red  in  contrast, 
or  blue  and  white,  in  harmony  with  red  flowers, 
or  floral  arches  draped  with  fish-nets  bestrewn 
with  pink  I'oses ;  or  yellow  alone  in  draperies 
combined  with  the  poppy,  or  gray  moss  and 
165 


1 66        H  Ututbtul  Moman. 

roses.  No  one  fails  to  respond  to  the  color 
summons  for  the  day  of  days.  The  meat-mar- 
kets are  tastefully  concealed  with  a  leafy  screen 
and  callas.  The  undertaker  makes  his  place  as 
cheerful  as  possible  with  evergreens,  roses,  and 
red  geraniums.  The  drugstore  is  gaily  trimmed, 
and  above  the  door  see  the  great  golden  mortar 
made  of  marigolds.  The  Mexican  and  Cali- 
fornian  colors  are  often  flung  out,  and  flags  are 
flying  from  many  windows.  The  long  broad 
street  is  a  blaze  of  glory  ;  the  immense  audience, 
seated  on  tiers  of  benches,  wait  patiently,  then 
impatiently,  for  the  expected  procession ;  and 
as  many  more  people  are  standing  in  line, 
equally  eager.  Many  have  baskets  or  armfuls 
of  flowers,  with  which  to  pelt  the  passing  ac- 
quaintance. There  are  moments  of  such  in- 
tense interest  that  everything  is  indelibly  and 
eternally  photographed.  I  see,  as  I  write,  the 
absolutely  cloudless  sky  of  perfect  blue,  the  sea 
a  darker  shade,  equally  perfect,  the  white  paved 
street,  the  kaleidoscope  of  color,  the  fluttering 
pennants,  the  faces  of  the  crowd  all  turned  in 
one  direction,    and  hark!    the  band    is  really 


•ffn  Gala  H)re56.  167 

coming,  the  beginning  of  the  pageant  is  just 
seen,  and  now  sea,  sky,  flags,  crowds  are  no 
more  regarded,  for  the  long-talked-of  parade  is 
here.  See  advancing  the  Grand  Commander 
and  his  showy  aids,  gay  Spanish  cavahers,  the 
horses  stepping  proudly,  realizing  the  impor- 
tance of  the  occasion,  the  saddles  and  bridles 
wound  with  ribbons  or  covered  with  flowers. 
And  next  the  Goddess  of  Flowers,  in  canopy- 
covered  shell,  a  pretty  little  Mayflower  of  a 
maiden,  with  a  band  of  maids  of  honor,  each  in 
a  dainty  shell.  The  shouts  and  applause  add 
to  the  excitement,  and  flowers  are  hurled  in 
merry  war  at  the  cavaliers,  and  the  goddess  and 
her  attendants.  Next  comes  the  George  Wash- 
ington coach,  modelled  after  the  historic  vehicle, 
occupied  by  stately  dames  and  courtly  gentle- 
men in  colonial  array;  even  the  footmen  are 
perfection  in  the  regulation  livery  of  that  period. 
Solemn  and  imposing  this  may  be,  but  they  get 
a  merciless  shower  of  roses,  and  one  of  the 
prizes.  And  do  look  at  the  haymakers!  Oh, 
that  is  charming!  Country  girls  and  boys  on 
a  load  of  new-mown  hay,  with  broad-brimmed 


1 68        a  xrrutbtul  Moman, 

hats,  and  dresses  trimmed  with  wild-flowers. 
And  now  the  advance-guard  is  coming  down 
again  ;  they  have  just  turned  at  the  head  of  the 
hne,  and  it  is  already  a  httle  confusing.  But 
the  judges!  How  can  they  keep  cool,  or  even 
think,  with  such  a  clamor  of  voices,  and  guests 
chattering  thoughtlessly  to  them.  Here  comes 
a  big  basket  on  wheels,  handle  and  all  covered 
with  moss  and  roses.  Four  girls  in  pink  silk 
trimmed  with  moss  stand  within,  bearing  shields 
of  pink  roses  to  protect  their  laughing  faces  from 
excess  of  attention.  What  a  lovely  picture! 
Another  basket  just  behind  covered  entirely 
with  marguerites ;  the  wheels  also  are  each  a 
marguerite,  the  white  horses  with  harness  cov- 
ered with  yellow  ribbon — so  dainty,  so  cool. 
Is  it  better  than  the  other  ?  And  here  is  a 
Roman  chariot,  a  Spanish  market-wagon,  a 
phaeton  covered  with  yellow  mustard,  a  hermit 
in  monastic  garb ;  then  Robin  Hood  and  his 
merry  men,  and  Maid  Marian  in  yellow-green 
habit,  Will  Scarlet  and  Friar  Tuck  in  green  doub- 
lets, yellow  facings,  bright  green  felt  hats,  bows 
and  quivers  flower-trimmed,  even   the  tiny  ar- 


Hn  Gala  Dress.  169 

rows  winged  with  blossoms.  Now  there  are 
equipages  three  deep  to  survey  instead  of  one, 
as  they  pass  and  repass  in  bewildering  splendor. 
And  do  look!  Here  come  the  comicalities! 
"  The  Old  Woman  who  lived  in  a  Shoe  " — a 
big  floral  slipper,  with  a  dozen  children  in  pink 
and  gray-green,  and  the  old  woman  on  great 
poke-bonnet ;  a  Japanese  jinrikisha  ;  an  egg  of 
white  flowers,  and  a  little  boy  hid  away  so  as 
to  peep  and  put  out  a  downy  head  as  a  yellow 
chicken  ;  a  bicycle  brigade  ;  equestriennes  ;  an 
interesting  procession  of  native  Cahfornians, 
with  the  accoutrements  of  the  Castilian,  on 
horseback.  One  carriage  is  banked  with  mari- 
golds, and  the  black  horses  are  harnessed  in  yel- 
low of  the  exact  shade.  It  is  fitly  occupied  by 
black-eyed  Spanish  beauties,  with  raven  hair 
done  up  high  with  gold  combs,  and  black  lace 
costumes  with  marigolds  for  trimming,  and  takes 
a  well-deserved  prize. 

Roses,  roses,  roses,  roses!  How  they  fly  and 
fall  as  the  fleeting  display  is  passing!  Thirty 
thousand   on   one   carriage.     Roses  cover  the 

street.    And  yet  the  gardens  don't  seem  stripped. 
12 


17°         H  Urutbtul  Moman, 

Where  millions  are  blooming  thousands  are  not 
missed.  And  not  roses  alone,  but  every  flower 
of  field  and  garden  and  conservatory  is  honored 
and  displayed.  Now  the  contestants  are  driv- 
ing up  to  the  grand  stand  to  secure  silken  ban- 
ners. Every  one  looks  a  little  bit  weary  in  pro- 
cession and  audience.  Is  it  over?  I  miurmur 
regretfully : 

"All  that's  bright  must  fade, 

The  brightest  still  the  fleetest ; 
All  that's  sweet  was  made 

But  to  be  lost  when  sweetest." 

Yes,  it  is  over !  Waving  banners,  rainbow 
colors,  showers  of  blossoms,  rosy  faces,  mimic 
battle,  fairy  scenes,  the  ideal  realized  ! 

This  is  better  than  the  New  Orleans  Mardi 
Gras,  so  often  marred  by  rain  and  mud,  with 
mythological  ambiguities  that  few  can  under- 
stand, and  difficult  to  interpret  in  passing  tab- 
leaux ;  better  than  similar  display  at  Nice  and 
Mentone.  This  I  do  call  "  unique  "  and  the  only. 
Let  Santa  Barbara  have  this  yearly  festa  for  her 
own.     She  has  fairly  won  the  preeminence. 

We  at  the  comparatively  frozen  and  prosaic 


•ffn  Gala  H)ress.  171 

north  can  indulge  in  gay  coaching  parades  at 
Franconia,  Newport,  or  Lenox,  where  costumes 
of  gorgeous  hues  assist  the  natural  beauty  of 
the  flowers.  But  it  is  only  a  coaching  parade, 
at  the  wind-up  of  a  gay  season.  We  cannot 
catch  the  evanescent  glamour,  the  optical  en- 
chantment, the  fantastic  fun,  the  exquisite  art 
of  making  long  preparation  and  hard  work, 
careful  schemes  for  effect,  appear  like  airy  non- 
sense for  the  amusement  of  an  idle  hour.  We 
show  the  machinery.  A  true  carnival  can  only 
be  a  success  in  a  perpetual  "summer-land," 
"  within  a  lovely  landscape  on  a  bright  and 
laughing  seacoast."  Taine  said,  "  Give  me  the 
race,  the  surroundings,  and  the  epoch,  and  I 
show  you  the  man."  Give  me  fair  women, 
roses,  sunshine,  leisure,  and  high-bred,  pranc- 
ing steeds,  and  I  show  you  this  Santa  Barbara 
Carnival. 

But  this  is  only  a  portion  of  the  entertain- 
ment. There  is  a  display  of  flowers  at  the 
Pavilion,  where  everything  can  be  found  that 
blooms  in  California,  all  most  artistically  ar- 
rayed ;   and  more  fascinating  in  the  evening. 


172         a  XTrutbful  Moman» 

when  hundreds  of  tiny  electric  hghts  twinkle 
everywhere  from  out  the  grayish-green  moss, 
and  the  hall  is  filled  with  admiring  guests. 
There  is  always  a  play  given  one  evening  by 
amateur  talent,  a  tournament,  and  a  grand 
closing  ball. 

The  tournament  is  exciting,  where  skilful 
riders  try  tilting  at  rings,  trying  to  take  as 
many  rings  as  possible  on  lance  while  galloping 
by  the  wires  on  which  these  rings  are  lightly 
suspended — a  difficult  accomplishment.  Their 
costumes  are  elaborate  and  gay,  but  never  outre 
or  bizarre,  and  no  two  alike.  Each  has  his 
own  color,  and,  like  the  knights  of  old,  has  a 
fayre  ladye  among  the  spectators  who  is  espe- 
cially interested  and  anxious  for  his  success. 

Next  comes  the  Spanish  game  of  "  colgar," 
picking  up  ten-dollar  gold  pieces  from  the  sad- 
dle, the  horse  at  full  speed.  And  the  gym- 
khana race  ends  the  games.  Those  who  enter, 
saddle  at  the  word  "  go,"  open  an  umbrella, 
and,  taking  out  a  cigar,  light  and  smoke  it — 
then  see  who  first  rides  to  the  goal. 

Last  came  the  real  vaqi/civs,  and  they  ride 


Hn  6ala  Wtc&s.  173 

untamed,  unbroken  horses,  after  a  long  and 
rather  painful  struggle  to  mount.  They  lasso 
mustangs  and  do  wonderful  things.  But  it  was 
too  much.     I  was  glad  to  go  and  rest. 

The  Flower  Dance  at  the  ball,  where  human 
flowers  formed  intricate  figures  and  dances  for 
our  edification  and  delight,  was  so  attractive 
that  my  words  are  of  no  avail.  Picture  twenty- 
eight  young  ladies,  each  dressed  to  represent  a 
flower — hollyhock,  pansy,  moss,  rose,  morning- 
glory,  eucalyptus  blossom,  pink  clover,  yellow 
marguerite,  Cherokee  rose,  pink  carnation, 
forget-me-not,  buttercup,  pink-and-white  fuch- 
sia, lily  of  the  valley,  wine-colored  peony,  white 
iris,  daffodil,  and  so  on.  They  advance  with 
slowly  swaying  motion,  with  wreaths  uplifted 
until  they  reach  the  stage,  where  sit  the  guests 
of  honor.  There  they  bow  low,  then  lay  the 
garlands  at  their  feet,  and  retire,  forming  ingen- 
iously pretty  groups  and  figures,  while  bees  and 
butterflies  flit  in  and  out.  See  the  bees  pursu- 
ing the  little  pink  rosebuds  until  at  last  they 
join  hands  and  dance  gaily  away,  only  to  be 
enthusiastically  recalled. 


ir4        H  Urutbtul  Moman* 

Do  you  ladies  want  to  understand  a  little  in 
detail  about  the  dresses?  Of  course  you  do. 
Well,  here  is  the  yellow  marguerite : 

Slender  petals  of  yellow  satin  falling  over  a 
skirt  of  white  silk  crepe,  a  green  satin  calyx 
girdle  about  her  waist,  and  golden  petals 
drooped  again  from  the  neck  of  her  low  bodice 
and  over  her  shoulders. 

A  handsome  brunette  represented  a  wine- 
colored  peony  in  a  rich  costume  of  wine-colored 
velvet  and  satin.  The  petals  fell  to  make  the 
skirt,  and  rose  again  from  a  bell  sheathing  the 
neck  of  her  low  corsage,  and  the  cap  on  her 
dark  hair  was  a  copy  of  the  flower. 

There,  you  see  how  it  is  done.  But  it  re- 
quires genius  to  succeed  in  such  an  undertak- 
ing. Look  at  Walter  Crane's  pictures  of  human 
flowers  for  more  suggestions. 

Most  effective  of  all  was  the  cachuca, 
danced  by  a  girl  of  pure  Castihan  blood,  who 
was  dressed  to  symbolize  the  scarlet  passion- 
flower. The  room  was  darkened  save  where  she 
stood,  and  her  steps  and  poses  were  full  of  Span- 
ish fire  and  feeling,  combined  with  poetic  grace. 


IFn  0ala  Dress.  175 

Yes,  it  is  over,  but  the  pictures  remain  as 
freshly  colored  as  if  I  saw  it  all  but  yesterday. 

During  the  Carnival  sentiment  reigns  supreme 
— that  is,  if  you  have  engaged  rooms  far  in 
advance,  and  the  matter  of  three  daily  meals  is 
setded — and  portly  business  men  become  gal- 
lant, chivalrous,  and  even  poetic.  In  testimony 
I  offer  two  verses  sent  to  a  lady  visitor  with  a 
bunch  of  roses : 

"  We  had  not  thought  it  was  for  aught 
He  lingered  round  us,  scanning, 
But  to  admire  our  spring  attire, 
The  south  wind  softly  fanning. 

"  But  when  we  knew  it  was  for  you 
Our  charms  he  sought  to  capture, 
All  round  the  bower  each  budding  flower 
Blushed  pink  with  rosy  rapture. 

"  Lovingly, 

The  Roses." 

George  Eliot  once  said :  "  You  love  the  roses 
— BO  do  I!  I  wish  the  sky  would  rain  doAvn 
roses  as  they  rain  from  off  the  shaken  bush. 
Why  will  it  not  ?  Then  all  the  valleys  would 
be  pink  and  white,  and  soft  to  tread  on.     They 


176         H  XTrutbful  Moman. 

would  fall  as  light  as  feathers,  smelling  sweet ; 
and  it  would  be  like  sleeping  and  yet  waking 
all  at  once." 

She  never  knew  Santa  Barbara. 

I  said  the  horses  feel  proud,  and  their  owners 
tell  me  how  they  turn  their  heads  to  see  their 
adornment.  And  well  they  may,  for  a  true 
Barbareno  loves  his  horse  as  does  the  Arab,  and 
dehghts  in  his  decoration.  Easily  first  in  this 
matter  is  Mr.  W.  D.  Thompson,  who  came  to 
Santa  Barbara  from  Maine  more  than  forty 
years  ago,  a  nephew  of  the  captain  with  whom 
Dana  sailed.  Mr.  Thompson  is  a  progressive 
man,  who  appreciates  the  many  improvements 
achieved  and  contemplated,  but  still  loves  to 
tell  of  the  good  old  times  when  he  was  rough- 
ing it  as  a  pioneer.  He  has  done  a  most  im- 
portant and  valuable  work  in  having  a  typical 
Mexican  saddle  and  bridle  of  the  most  ap- 
proved  and  correct  pattern  made  out  of  the 
finest  leather  and  several  thousand  silver  dol- 
lars. As  his  favorite  mare  stood  before  me 
with  this  magnificent  saddle  on,  and  her  fore- 
legs tied  with  a  httle  strap  so  that  she  could 


Hn  6ala  'BtcsB.  177 

step  daintily  but  not  run,  I  never  saw  such  a 
pretty  sight  of  the  kind.  This  saddle  and 
bridle,  worth  over  $3000,  are  now  on  exhibition 
in  Chicago.  No  more  significant  or  beautiful 
exhibition  of  the  early  argonautic  period  could 
be  sent  from  Southern  California,  and  it  will 
surely  attract  constant  and  admiring  attention. 
Here  is  a  description  from  the  San  Francisco 
Argonaui  : 

"  This  saddle  and  bridle,  manufactured  of 
bullion  from  Mexican  dollars,  are  exquisite 
works  of  art.  The  saddle  is  of  typical  Mexican 
pattern,  with  a  high  pommel,  well-hollowed 
seat,  and  the  most  elaborate  of  trappings.  The 
leather  is  stamped  with  elegant  designs,  and 
the  whole  thing  is  a  complete,  costly,  and  elab- 
orate equipment,  of  good  taste  and  artistic 
design.  The  saddle  is  studded  over  with  sil- 
ver ornaments.  The  leather  facings  are  set 
thick  with  buttons  and  rosettes;  the  pommel 
is  encased  in  silver ;  the  corners  of  the  aprons 
are  tipped  with  silver;  the  stirrups  are  faced 
and  edged  with  silver  half  an  inch  thick,  elab- 
orately chased  and  carved.     The  saddle-tree  is 


178        H  trrutbful  Woman. 

hung  with  silver  rings,  fore  and  aft,  to  answer 
all  the  requirements  of  the  vaquero  in  lacing 
up  h-is  riata.  The  girth,  which  passes  under  the 
horse's  belly  and  cinches  the  saddle  in  place, 
is  woven  of  hair  from  horses'  manes  by  a  native 
artisan,  and  is  fully  eight  inches  broad,  with  a 
tassel  hanging  at  its  middle.  The  saddle,  the 
bridle,  and  all  its  appointments  are  marvels  of 
beauty.  The  reins,  martingale,  and  whip  are 
composed  of  solid  silver  in  woven  strands.  The 
headstall  is  covered  with  fluted  silver,  with  large 
engraved  silver  rosettes  at  the  sides,  with  deco- 
rations of  flowers  and  heads  of  wheat,  with 
an  elaborate  nose-piece  with  silver  engraving. 
The  side-pieces  are  of  silver,  massive  and  ornate, 
with  a  silver  chain  under  the  horse's  jaw.  The 
bridle,  reins,  and  accessories  weigh  about  twelve 
pounds,  and  are  worth  not  less  than  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  in  value  of  silver  coin 
used  in  its  manufacture." 

Everybody  up  and  down  the  coast  knows 
Dixie  Thompson.  His  talk  is  full  of  delightful 
anecdotes  of  the  early  settlers,  and  he  has  a 
droll,  dry  humor  of  his  own  that  is  refreshing. 


tn  Gala  Dress.  179 


Mr.  Nordhoff,  who  is  an  old  friend,  once  wrote 
to  the  Harper  "  Drawer  "  about  his  shrewd  way 
of  restraining  the  over-keen  traders  and  laboring 
men  who  tried  to  impose  upon  him.  He  heads 
the  pleasant  bit  of  gossip,  "  Captain  Thompson's 
Club,"  and  says : 

"  Captain  Dixie  is,  to  all  appearance,  the 
man  of  most  leisiu-e  in  all  leisurely  Santa  Bar- 
bara. He  and  his  horses  and  carriages  are  al- 
ways at  the  service  of  a  friend.  But  while  he 
seems  to  be  the  idlest  of  men,  he  is,  in  fact,  an 
extremely  capable  business  man  who  has  many 
irons  in  the  fire — tills  much  good  land,  has 
horses  and  cattle  and  pigs  of  the  best  breeds 
on  many  hills  and  in  several  rich  valleys,  and 
keeps  all  his  affairs  running  in  good  order. 
Still,  he  is  an  easy-going,  not  a  bustling,  man 
of  business.  And  it  is  just  here  that  his  social 
contrivance  comes  in :  he  has  judged  it  expe- 
dient to  form  a  club. 

You  see,'  said  he,  the  other  day,  to  an  old 
friend,  '  the  boys  don't  always  see  me  around, 
and  sometimes  they  try  to  take  a  little  advan- 
tage.    I  find  a  fellow  who   don't  haul  half  a 


i8o         H  xrrutbfttl  Moman, 

load  for  me  while  I  am  paying  for  a  full  load ; 
another  one  who  gives  me  short  measm^e ;  or 
another  who  does  not  do  what  I  have  told  him. 
I  hate  to  scold ;  and  as  they  all  deny  when  I 
accuse  them,  and  I  can't  be  telling  men  that 
they  are  lying  to  me,  I  thought  I'd  just  estabhsh 
a  Liars'  Club  and  bring  them  all  in.  It  is  now 
in  good,  healthy  operation.  We  don't  call  it 
the  Liars'  Club,  of  course ;  we  speak  of  the 
Club.  But  when  I  catch  a  man  trying  to  'do' 
me,  I  just  tell  him  that  I'll  have  to  make  him  a 
member  of  the  Club, — Oh,  how  do  you  do, 
Mr.  President? '  said  Captain  Dixie  to  a  well- 
known  character  just  then  passing  by. — '  He's 
the  president  of  the  Club,  you  know,'  he  added. 
*  Here's  Pancho  now  ;  I  told  him  the  other  day 
I  would  have  to  make  him  a  member  of  the 
Club  if  he  didn't  look  out.  I  guess  he'll  get  in 
yet.  It's  a  very  flourishing  club,  and  more 
useful,  I  guess,  than  some  others.' 

"  Don't  laugh,  my  dear  Drawer.  I  believe 
Captain  Thompson  has  struck  an  admirable  idea, 
and  one  which  might  well  have  wide  application. 
Don't  you  suppose  the  material  for  such  a  club 


IFn  6ala  Bress, 


exists,  for  instance — not  here  in  New  Haven, 
of  course,  but  over  in  New  York,  say,  or  per- 
haps in  Washington?  Think  it  over.  The 
Drawer  has  always  taken  the  lead  in  great 
moral  and  social  improvements.  I  leave  it  to 
you." 

Here,  as  in  all  Southern  California,  you  will 
never  know  anything  of  the  real  town  unless 
you  have  a  friend  who  can  take  you  to  unfre- 
quented cross-country  drives  up  winding  paths 
to  mesas,  or  upland  pasture  guarded  by  lock 
and  key  from  the  average  tourist,  and  get  views 
indescribably  fine. 

I  am  ashamed  of  my  fellow-travellers  who 
pick  oranges  by  the  score,  and  even  break  off 
boughs  from  the  choicest  and  most  conspicuous 
trees,  and  rush  uninvited  pell-mell  into  private 
grounds  and  quiet  homes  of  well-bred  people 
to  see  and  exclaim  and  criticise.  Add  to  this 
nuisance  the  fact  that  hundreds  of  invahds 
come  yearly  to  the  most  desirable  localities, 
turning  them  into  camping-grounds  for  bacilli. 
I  wonder  at  the  singular  forbearance  and  court- 
esy of  the  residents. 


i82         H  xrrutbtul  Moman, 

Occasionally  some  one  invited  to  speechify 
or  air  his  opinion  of  things  in  general  here 
bluntly  expresses  his  surprise  at  finding  every- 
where so  much  culture,  wealth,  and  refinement. 
This  is  a  queer  reflection  on  the  fact  that  this 
part  of  the  State  is  filled  with  specimens  of  our 
finest  families  from  the  East.  I  will  frankly 
admit  that  I  must  be  at  my  very  best  to  keep 
up  with  those  I  have  been  privileged  to  meet 
here. 

You  must  not  forget  when  in  Santa  Barbara 
to  visit  the  fine  public  library,  the  best  adapted 
for  the  convenience  of  actual  workers  of  any 
I  have  entered.  You  must  not  fail  to  drive  to 
Montecito  ("little  forest"),  to  Carpenteria  and 
Goleta. 

I  also  advise  you  to  spend  a  morning  in  Mr. 
Ford's  studio,  and  an  afternoon  with  Mr.  Starke 
and  his  treasures  in  wood-carving  and  inlaying, 
brought  yearly  from  the  Yoscmite,  wrought  out 
with  his  own  hands.  He  uses  nearly  fifty  vari- 
eties of  trees  in  his  woodwork,  and  few  see  his 
stock  and  go  away  without  investing  in  a  red- 
wood cane,  a  paper-knife,  or  an  inlaid  table. 


Un  (Bala  Bress,  183 

His  orders  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world, 
and  are  often  very  large,  mounting  up  to  hun- 
dreds of  dollars.  He  is  a  simple-hearted  student 
of  nature,  and  a  thorough  workman.  I  enjoyed 
a  brief  visit  to  Chinatown  and  Spanishtown 
close  by,  where  I  saw  a  woman  scrubbing 
clothes  on  a  long  flat  board,  with  a  piece  of 
soap  in  each  hand,  standing  in  a  hut  made  of 
poles  covered  with  brush,  and  noticed  an  old 
oven  outdoors  and  the  meat  hung  up  in  strips 
to  dry.  I  enjoyed  also  a  call  on  the  old  fellow 
who  "catcha  de  fisha." 

And  now,  looking  back  as  we  are  whirled 
away,  I  find  I  am  repeating  those  hnes  from 
Shelley  which  so  exactly  reproduce  the  picture : 

"  The  earth  and  ocean  seem 
To  sleep  in  one  another's  arms  and  dream 
Of  waves,  flowers,  clouds,  woods,  rocks,  and  all  that  we 
Read  in  their  smiles,  and  call  reality." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


AU    REVOIR. 


UST  as  a  woman  is  leaving  her  friends 

she  ever  has  the  most  to  chatter  about. 

How  can  I  say  an  revoir  briefly  when 

there  is  so  much  more  to  tell  ?     I  so  earnestly 

want  to  give  California  en  vei'dad,  or  in  truth. 

There  has  been  too  much  bragging  from  the 

settlers,  as  in  1887  the  Los  Angeles  Herald  said 

that  "  New  York  would  soon  be  excelled  by 

that  city."     There  is  a  general  desire  to  surpass 

all  the  rest  of  the  world  in  as  many  ways  as 

possible,  and  a  general  belief  that  it  can  easily 

be  done.     And  visitors  have  omitted  all  that 

was   unpleasant,    and    exaggerated    the    good 

points,  so  that  one  Californian  speaks  "  of  the 

dancing   dervishes   of    travel,   singing  insanely 

from  the  moment  they  come  to  us," 

There  is  so  much  that  is  novel  in  this  wonder- 
184 


Hu  IRevofr. 


land  that  it  is  hard  to  keep  cool  and  look  at 
all  sides.  In  1870  all  vegetables  and  grain 
were  imported.  Mr.  Webster  declared  long 
ago  in  Congress  that  Cahfornia  was  absolutely- 
worthless  except  for  mining  and  grazing.  The 
rancheros  thought  the  land  only  fit  for  sheep  to 
roam  over.  Now  great  train-loads  of  vegeta- 
bles and  grain  leave  daily  for  the  East ;  all  the 
earliest  fruit  of  New  York,  Boston,  and  Chicago 
comes  from  this  State,  and  ships  are  carrying 
all  these  products  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 
From  north  to  south  the  State  measures  over 
800  miles — as  far  as  from  New  York  to  Florida 
— with  an  area  of  189,000  square  miles — as 
much  as  New  England  and  the  Middle  States 
combined,  throwing  in  Maryland.  The  north- 
ern and  southern  portions  are  as  unlike  as 
Massachusetts  and  Florida,  and  the  State  must 
soon  be  divided.  How  little  is  known  of 
Northern  California!  Next  year  I  hope  to 
describe  that,  with  its  lofty  mountains,  wonder- 
ful scenery,  lakes  of  rare  beauty,  immense  in- 
terests in  grain,  fruits,  and  mining.     This  little 

bit  along  the  coast  is  but  a  minute  portion  of 
13 


i86         H  Urutbtul  Timoman* 

the  whole.  I  have  only  followed  in  the  foot- 
steps of  the  Fathers,  and  would  like  to  take 
you  to  Monterey,  where  Junipero  Serra  founded 
his  last  mission.  Mrs.  Stanford  has  placed  a 
statue  of  the  dear  old  saint  on  the  shore  to 
honor  his  life-work.  Realizing  the  size  of  the 
State  and  its  capabilities,  big  stories  seem  in- 
evitable. As  Talleyrand  said  of  Spain,  "  It  is  a 
country  in  which  two  and  two  make  five." 

Some  statements  need  to  be  modified.  It  is 
declared  over  and  over  that  here  there  are  no 
thunderstorms.  In  the  Examiner  ot  May  19th 
I  read :  "  Santa  Rosa  was  visited  by  a  very 
severe  electrical  storm  about  eleven  o'clock  last 
night.  The  sky  was  brilliantly  illuminated  by 
lightning,  and  peal  after  peal  of  heavy  thunder 
was  heard.  This  was  followed  by  a  rain  which 
continued  until  near  morning."  A  church 
steeple  was  struck  by  lightning  and  destroyed. 
This  is  unusual,  but  for  "  never  "  read  "  hardly 
ever."  No  mad  dogs,  yet  a  little  terrier  I 
bought  in  San  Francisco  to  give  to  a  friend 
had  to  be  shot  its  first  summer  on  account  of 
rabies.     Let  us  balance  matters : 


Hu  IRevoir,  187 


No  malaria,  but    rheumatism. 

No  cyclones,  "      wind  and  sand  storms. 

No  thunderstorms,       "      earthquakes. 
No  mad  dogs,  "      rattlesnakes  and  centipedes, 

tarantulas  and  scorpions. 
No  sunstrokes,  "     chilling  fogs. 

All  goes  when  the  sun  goes.  The  climate  is 
"  outdoors."  A  sunny  room  is  essential.  The 
difference  between  noonday  and  midnight,  tem- 
perature between  sun  and  shade,  is  something 
to  be  learned  and  guarded  against. 

Each  place  is  recommended  by  doctors  who 
have  regained  their  own  health  as  the  place 
for  invalids.  What  Dr.  Edwards  says  of  San 
Diego  is  repeated  everywhere  else  by  experts : 

"  San  Diego  presents  the  most  even  chmate, 
the  largest  proportion  of  fair,  clear  days,  a  sandy 
and  absorbent  soil,  and  the  minimum  amount 
of  atmospheric  moisture — all  the  factors  requi- 
site in  a  perfect  climate." 

In  each  "pefip/icral  jr  si  stances  are  reduced  to 
a  mijiifniaii."  Dr.  Radebaugh,  of  Pasadena, 
who,  I  believe,  has  not  the  normal  amount  of 
Jung  but  has  been  restored  to  health  by  the  air 
of  Pasadena,  where  he  has  a  large  practice,  as- 


1 88         H  XTrutbful  Moman. 

sures  me  that,  in  his  candid  opinion,  "  Pasadena 
is  the  greatest  all-the-year-round  health-resort 
in  the  world."  Dr.  Isham,  of  same  place,  goes 
into  details,  and  is  almost  the  only  physician  I 
have  consulted  who  acknowledges  drawbacks 
in  the  Pasadena  climate  for  those  who  desire  a 
cure  for  throat  or  lungs.  "  This  climate,  like 
all  else  here,  is  paradoxical  and  contradictory," 
and  he  mentions  that  the  winds  blowing  from 
the  Pacific  are  not  usually  the  rain-bearers,  but 
those  blowing  from  a  point  directly  opposite, 
and  that  the  arid  desert.  Among  objectionable 
features  he  mentions  the  "marked  changes  of 
temperature  daily,  frequent  fogs,  excess  of 
humidity  in  winter  owing  to  protracted  rains 
(thirty  inches  in  five  months,  from  November, 
1892,  to  March  of  this  year);  hot,  dry  winds 
that  prevail  in  summer,  with  wind  and  sand 
storms,  which  have  a  debilitating  effect  on  nerv- 
ous systems,  and  are  irritating  to  the  mucous 
membrane." 

How  refreshing  to  find  one  person  who  does 
not  consider  his  own  refuge  from  disease  an 
ideal  heaUh-resort !     He  also  owns  that  doctors 


au  IRevoir.  189 


do  not  know  yet  how  to  treat  such  troubles  as 
bronchitis,  as  is  proven  by  their  experimenting 
upon  patients  in  Minnesota,  Colorado,  Arizona, 
Florida,  and  Pasadena.  And  he  closes  his  letter 
in  this  way : 

"  When  local  jealousies  have  subsided,  and 
contending  climates  have  had  their  day,  the 
thing  of  cardinal  importance  for  an  invalid  such 
as  you  have  mentioned  to  do  when  about  to 
change  his  or  her  home  will  be,  not  to  attach 
too  much  importance  to  this  or  that  particular 
chmatic  condition  as  determined  by  the  ba- 
rometer, thermometer,  hygrometer,  anemom- 
eter, and  other  meteorological  instruments,  nor 
to  lay  too  much  stress  on  a  difference  of  a  few 
hundred  or  thousand  feet  of  elevation  above 
the  sea;  but  choose  a  home  where  the  en- 
vironments will  afford  the  invalid  or  valetudi- 
narian the  greatest  opportunity  of  living  out-of- 
doors,  and  of  spending  the  hours  of  sunshine 
in  riding,  driving,  walking,  and  in  other  ways, 
whereby  the  entrance  of  pure  air  into  the  lungs 
is  facilitated.  In  Pasadena  the  days  in  winter 
are  warm  encugh  to  make  outdoor  life  attract- 


190         H  XTrutbtul  Moman. 

ive  and  healthful,  while  the  number  of  sunny- 
days  throughout  the  year  is  above  the  average 
of  that  prevailing  in  many  other  deservedly 
popular  health-resorts." 

I  will  also  quote  a  letter  received  from  Dr. 
W.  B.  Berry,  formerly  of  Montclair,  N.  J.,  who, 
coming  to  Southern  California  an  almost  hope- 
less invalid,  is  now  fairly  well,  and  will  probably 
entirely  regain  his  health.  He  also  is  careful 
and  conservative  in  statement,  and  therefore 
commands  serious  attention : 

"  Riverside,  Cal.,  May  2,  1893. 

"  Dear  Miss  Sanborn  :  To  recommend 
any  place  to  an  invalid  is  to  an  experienced 
climate-hunter  no  doubt,  at  times,  a  duty, — cer- 
tainly it  is  a  duty  from  which  he  shrinks. 

"  One  does  not  see  so  many  advanced  cases 
of  pulmonary  disease  here  as  at  either  Asheville 
or  Colorado  Springs.  The  thousands  of  miles 
of  alkah,  sage-brush,  and  desolation  might  ex- 
plain that,  but  it  does  seem  to  me  that  a  much 
larger  proportion  of  consumptives  are  '  doing 
well '  in  this  country  than  in  those. 


Bu  IRevofr,  191 


"Pure  dry  air,  pure  water,  and  clean  dry  soil 
are  the  climatic  elements  essential  for  the  pul- 
monary invalid,  and  for  most  others.  These 
conditions  can  be  found  at  Riverside  and  its 
vicinity  during  a  large  proportion  of  the  year. 

"  Here,  too,  are  cool  walks,  with  sunshine  or 
shade,  as  may  be  desired,  and  things  on  every 
side  to  interest.  For,  unfortunately,  the  man 
with  a  sore  chest  has  a  brain  and  a  spinal  cord 
to  be  stimulated  and  fed,  not  to  speak  of  those 
little  heartstrings  undiscovered  by  the  anatomist, 
and  which  yet  tug  and  pull  mightily  in  a  far 
country, 

"  In  short,  it  would  seem  that  any  consump- 
tive in  an  early  stage  of  his  disease  who  does 
not  thrive  at  a  moderate  altitude  would  do  well 
to  come  here  and  to  stay — that  is,  if  he  will 
remember  that  all  the  climate  is  out-of-doors." 

My  own  troublesome  throat  is  almost  as  good 
as  new,  and  I  am  proud  to  name  my  physi- 
cian. Outdoors,  M.D.  Come  and  consult  the 
same  unfailing  restorer. 

I  have  given,  according  to  my  humble  ability. 


192         H  XTrutbtul  Moman. 

la  verdad  cicrta — the  absolute  truth — about  the 
sma]l  fraction  of  the  State  known  as  Southern 
Cahfornia. 

I  came  with  gargle  and  note-book,  but  long 
ago  gave  up  the  former ;  and  as  for  these  jot- 
tings, I  offer  them  to  those  who  want  to  see 
this  much-talked-of  Earthly  Paradise  as  in  a 
verbal  mirror.     And  to  all  a  cordial  mc  revoir! 

"Adieu  to  thee  again! 
A  vain  adieu! 

There  can  be  no  farewell  to  scene  like  thine: 
The  mind  is  colored  by  thy  every  hue." 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

HANDY  VOLUMES    OF  FICTION. 
Each,  I'zmo,  flexible  cloth,  with  special  design,  75  cents. 

n^HE   TRANSLATION  OF  A    SAVAGE.      By  GlL- 
•^      BERT  Parker. 

"  To  tell  such  a  story  convincingly  a  man  must  have  what  I  call  the 
rarest  of  literary  gifts — the  power  to  condense.  Of  the  good  feeling  and 
healthy  wisdom  of  this  little  tale  others  no  doubt  have  spoken  and  will 
speak.  But  I  have  chosen  tliis  technical  quality  for  piaise,  because  in  this 
1  think  Mr.  Parker  has  made  the  furthest  advance  on  his  previous  work. 
Indeed,  in  workmanship  he  seems  to  be  improving  faster  than  any  of  the 
younger  novelists." — A.  T.  Quiller-Coich,  in  the  London  Spectator. 

'THE   FAYeNCE    violin.    By Champfleury. 
■*      Translated  by  W.  H.  Bishop. 

"The  style  is  happy  throughout,  the  humorous  parts  being  well  cal- 
culated to  bring  smiles,  while  we  can  hardly  restram  our  teais  when  the 
poor  enthusiast  goes  to  excesses  that  ha\e  a  touch  of  pathos." — Albany 
Times-Utiion. 


T 


RUE  RICHES.     By  Francois  Coppee. 


"  Delicate  as  an  apple  blossom,  with  its  limp  cover  of  pale  green  and  its 
stalk  of  golden-rod,  is  this  little  volume  containing  tivo  stories  by  Francois 
Coppee.  The  tales  are  charmingly  told,  and  their  setting  is  an  artistic 
delight." — Philadelphia  BulUtiii. 

"The  author  scarcely  had  a  thought  of  sermonizing  his  readers,  but 
each  of  these  little  stories  presents  a  moral  not  easily  overlooked,  and 
whose  influence  lingers  with  those  who  read  them." — Baltiviote  Atnerican. 

4  TRUTHFUL  WOMAN  IN  SOUTHERN  CALI- 
•^~^  FORN'IA.  By  Kate  Sanborn,  author  of  "Adopting 
an  Abandoned  Farm,"  etc. 
"The  veracious  writer  considers  the /r^j- of  the  '  g'orious  climate'  of 
California,  and  then  she  gives  the  cons.  Decidedly  the  ayes  have  it.  .  .  . 
The  book  is  sprightly  and  amiably  entertaining.  The  desiriptlons  have 
the  true  Sanborn  touch  of  vitality  and  humor." — Fhiladeipiiia  Ledger. 

A  BORDER  LEANDER.  By  Howard  Seely,  au- 
■^^    thor  of  "A  Nymph  of  the  West,"  etc. 

"We  confess  to  a  great  liking  for  the  tale  Mr.  Seely  tells.  .  .  .  There 
are  pecks  of  trouble  ere  the  devoted  lovers  secure  the  tying  of  their  love- 
knot,  and  iNIr.  Seely  describes  them  all  with  a  Texan  fla\or  that  is  refresh- 
ing."— New  York  Times, 

"  A  swift,  gay,  dramatic  little  tale,  which  at  once  takes  captive 
the  reader's  sympathy  and  holds  it  without  difficulty  to  the  end."— 
Charleston  Mews  and  Courier. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON   &   CD'S    PUBLICATIONS. 

Books  by  Sara  Jeannette  Duncan. 

^HE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSA- 
•*     HIB.     By  Sara  Jeannette   Duncan,     With  37  Illustra- 
tions by  F.  H.  Townsend.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  It  is  impossible  for  Sara  Jeannette  Duncan  to  be  otherwise  than  inter- 
esting. Whether  it  be  a  voyage  around  the  world,  or  an  American  girl's 
experiences  in  London  society,  or  the  adventures  pertaining  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  youthful  couple  in  India,  there  is  always  an  atmosphere,  a 
quality,  a  charm  pecuharly  her  own." — Brooklyn  Stattdard-Unwn. 

"  It  is  like  traveling  without  leaving  one's  armchair  to  read  it.  Miss 
Duncan  has  the  descriptive  and  narrative  gift  in  large  measure,  and  she 
brings  vividly  before  us  the  street  scenes,  the  interiors,  the  bewilderingly 
queer  natives,  the  gayeties  of  the  English  colony." — Philadelpfiia  Tele- 
g>aj>h. 


A 


SOCIAL  DEPARTURE  :  How  Orthodocia  and  I 
Went  Round  the  World  by  Ourselves.  By  Sara  Jean- 
nette Duncan.  With  m  Illustrations  by  F.  H.  Town- 
send.     i2mo.     Paper,  75  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.75. 

"  Widely  read  and  praised  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific, 
with  scores  of  illustrations  which  fit  the  text  exactly  and  show  the  mind 
of  artist  and  writer  in  unison." — Neiu  York  Evening  Post. 

"  It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  another  book  can  be  found  so  thoroughly 
amusing  from  beginning  to  end." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  For  sparkling  wit,  irresistibly  contagious  fun,  keen  observation,  abso- 
lutely poetic  appreciation  of  natural  beauty,  and  vivid  descriptiveness,  it 
has  no  recent  rival." — Mrs.  P.  T.  Barnum's  Letter  to  the  Nezv  York 
Tribune. 

"  A  brighter,  merrier,  more  entirely  charming  book  would  be,  indeed, 
difficult  to  find." — St.  Loztis  Republic. 


A 


N  AMERICAN  GIRL  IN  LONDON.  By  Sara 
Jeannette  Duncan.  With  80  Illustrations  by  F.  H. 
Townsend.      i2mo.     Paper,  75  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.50. 

"One  of  the  most  naive  and  entertaining  books  of  the  season." — 
Neiu  York  Observer. 

"  The  raciness  and  breeziness  which  made  '  A  Social  Departure,'  by  the 
same  author,  last  season,  the  best-read  and  most-talkedof  book  of  travel 
for  many  a  year,  permeate  the  new  book,  and  appear  between  the  lines  of 
every  page." — Brooklyn  Standard-Uniott. 

"  So  sprightly  a  book  as  this,  on  life  in  London  as  observed  by  an 
American,  has  never  before  been  written." — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

"Overrunning  with  cleverness  and  good-will." — New  York  Com- 
mercial A  dvertiser. 

New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


M' 


'ANY  INVENTIONS.  By  Rudyard  Kipling. 
Containing  fourteen  stories,  several  of  which  are  now 
published  for  the  first  time,  and  two  poems.  i2mo, 
427  pages.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"The  reader  turns  from  its  pages  with  the  conviction  that  the  author 
has  no  superior  to-day  in  animated  narrative  and  virility  of  style.  He  re- 
mains master  of  a  power  in  which  none  of  his  contemporaries  approach  him 
— the  ability  to  select  out  of  countless  details  the  few  vital  ones  which  create 
the  finished  picture.  He  knows  how,  with  a  phrase  or  a  word,  to  make 
you  see  his  characters  as  he  sees  them,  to  make  you  feel  the  full  meaning 
of  a  dramatic  situation." — New  York  'J  ribiine. 

"'Many  Inventions'  will  confirm  Mr.  Kipling's  reputation.  .  .  .  We 
would  cite  with  pleasure  sentences  from  almost  every  page,  and  extract 
incidents  from  almost  eveiy  story.  But  to  what  end?  Here  is  the  com- 
pletest  book  that  Mr.  Kipling  has  yet  given  us  in  workmanship,  the 
weightiest  and  most  humane  in  breadth  of  view." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"  Mr.  Kipling's  powers  as  a  story-teller  are  evidently  not  diminishing. 
We  advise  everybody  to  buy  '  Many  Inventions,'  and  to  profit  by  some  of 
the  best  entertainment  that  modern  fiction  has  to  offer." — New  York  Sun. 

"  '  Many  Inventions  '  will  be  welcomed  wherever  the  English  language 
is  spoken.  .  .  .  Every  one  of  the  stories  bears  the  imprint  of  a  master  who 
conjures  up  incident  as  if  by  magic,  and  who  portrays  character,  scenery, 
and  feeling  with  an  ease  which  is  only  exceeded  by  the  boldness  of  force." 
— Boston  Globe. 

"The  book  will  get  and  hold  the  closest  attention  of  the  reader." 
—A  nierican  Bookseller. 

"  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling's  place  in  the  world  of  letters  is  unique.  He 
sits  quite  aloof  and  alone,  the  incomparable  and  inimitable  master  of  the 
exquisitely  fine  art  of  short-story  writing.  Mr.  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  has 
perhaps  written  several  tales  which  match  the  run  of  Mr.  Kipling's  work, 
but  the  best  of  Mr.  Kipling's  tales  are  matchless,  and  his  latest  collection, 
'Many  Inventions,'  contains  several  such." — Pkiladelphia  Press. 

"Of  late  essays  in  fiction  the  work  of  Kipling  can  be  compared  to 
only  three — Blackmore's  '  Loma  Doone,'  Stevenson's  marvelous  sketch 
of  Villon  in  the  'New  Arabian  Nights,"  and  Thomas  Hardy's  '  Tess  of  the 
D'Urbervilles.'  ...  It  is  probably  ovnng  to  this  extreme  care  that  '  Many 
Inventions  '  is  undoubtedly  Mr.  Kipling's  best  book." — Chicago  Post. 

"  Mr.  Kipling's  style  is  too  well  known  to  American  readers  to  require 
introduction,  but  it  can  scarcely  be  amiss  to  say  there  is  not  a  story  in  this 
collection  that  does  not  more  than  repay  a  perusal  uf  them  all." — Baltimore 
A  merica/i. 

"  As  a  writer  of  short  stories  Rudyard  Kipling  is  a  genius.  He  has  had 
imitators,  but  they  have  not  been  successful  in  dimming  the  luster  of  his 
achievements  by  contrast.  .  .  .  '  Many  Inventions  '  is  the  title.  And  they 
are  inventions — entirely  original  in  incident,^ingenious  in  plot,  and  startling 
by  their  boldness  and  force." — Rochester  Herald. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street 


c 


D.  APPLETON   &   CO.'S   PUBLICATIONS. 


AMP-FIRES  OF  A  NATURALIST.  From  the 
Field  Notes  of  Lewis  Lindsay  Dyche,  A.  M.,  M.  S.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Zoology  and  Curator  of  Birds  and  Mammals  in  ths 
Kansas  State  University.  The  Story  of  Fourteen  Expedi- 
tions after  North  American  Mammals.  By  Cl.\rence  E. 
Edwords.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  i2mo.  Cloth, 
$1.50. 

"  It  is  not  always  that  a  professor  of  zoology  is  so  enthusiastic  a  sports- 
man as  Prof.  Dyche.  His  hunting  exploits  are  as  varied  as  those  of  Gor- 
don Cumming,  for  example,  in  South  Africa.  His  grizzly  bear  is  as  danger- 
ous as  the  lion,  and  his  mountain  sheep  and  goats  more  difficult  to  stalk 
and  shoot  than  any  creatures  of  the  torrid  zone.  Evidently  he  came  by 
his  tastes  as  a  hunter  from  lifelong  experience." — New  \  ork  Tribune. 

"The  book  has  no  dull  pages,  and  is  often  excitingly  interesting,  and 
fully  instructive  as  to  the  habits,  haunts,  and  nature  ot  wild  beasts." — Chi- 
cago  Inter-Ocean. 

"  There  is  abundance  of  interesting  incident  in  addition  to  the  scien- 
tific element,  and  the  illustrations  are  numerous  and  highly  graphic  as  to 
the  big  game  met  by  the  hunters,  and  the  hardships  cheerfully  under- 
taken." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"The  narrative  is  simple  and  manly  and  full  of  the  freedom  of  forests. 
.  .  .  1  his  record  of  his  work  ought  to  awaken  the  interest  of  the  genera- 
tion growing  up,  if  only  by  the  contrast  of  his  active  experience  of  the 
resources  of  Nature  and  of  savage  life  with  the  background  of  culture  and 
the  environment  of  educational  advantages  that  are  being  rapidly  formed 
foi  the  students  of  the  United  States.  Prof  IJyche  seems,  from  this  ac- 
count of  him,  to  have  thought  no  personal  hardship  or  exertion  wasted  in 
his  attempt  to  collect  facts,  that  the  naturalist  of  the  future  may  be  pro- 
vided v/ith  complete  and  verified  ideas  as  to  species  which  will  soon  be 
extinct  This  is  good  work — work  that  we  need  and  that  posterity  will 
recognize  with  gratitude.  The  illustrations  of  the  book  are  interesting,  and 
the  type  is  clear." — New  York  Times. 

"The  adventures  are  simply  told,  but  some  of  them  are  thrilling  of 
necessity,  however  modestly  the  narrator  does  his  work.  Prof.  Uyche  has 
had  about  as  many  experiences  in  the  way  of  hunting  for  science  as  fall 
to  the  lot  of  the  most  fortunate,  and  this  recountal  of  them  is  most  interest- 
ing. The  camps  from  which  he  worked  ranged  from  the  Lake  ol  the  Woods 
to  Arizona,  and  northwest  to  British  Columbia,  and  in  every  region  he 
was  successful  in  securing  rare  specimens  for  his  museum." — Chicago 
'J  lines. 

"The  literary  construction  is  refreshing.  The  reader  is  carried  into 
the  midst  of  the  very  scenes  of  which  the  author  tells,  not  by  elaborateness 
of  description  but  by  the  directness  and  vividness  of  eveiy  sentence.  He 
is  given  no  opportunity  to  abandon  the  companions  with  which  the  book 
has  provided  him,  for  incident  is  made  to  follow  incident  with  no  inter- 
vening literary  padding.  In  fact,  the  book  is  all  action." — Kansas  City 
yournal. 

New  York  :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S   PUBLICATIONS. 

STANDARD    FRENCH  FICTION. 

piCCIOLA.     By  X.  B.  Saintine.    With  130  Illustrations 
"*        by  J.  F.  GuELDRY.     8vo.     Cloth,  gilt,  $1.50. 

"  Picciola  :  The  Prisoner  of  Fenestrella,  or  Captivity  Captive," 
is  one  of  the  most  charming  and  popular  of  French  classics.  The 
artist  has  thoroughly  sympathized  with  the  delicacy  and  beauty  of 
this  tender  and  touching  story,  and  the  publishers  believe  that 
this  edition  will  take  a  permanent  place  as  the  standard  illus- 
trated "  Picciola."  It  is  uniform  with  the  illustrated  editions  of 
"  Colette"  and  "  An  Attic  Philosopher  in  Paris." 


A 


y  ATTIC  PHILOSOPHER  IN  PARIS;  or,  A 
Peep  at  the  World  from  a  Garret.  Being  the  Journal  of  a 
Happy  Man.  By  Emile  Souvestre.  With  numerous 
Illustrations.     8vo.     Cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.50. 

"  A  suitable  holiday  gift  for  a  friend  who  appreciates  refined  literature." 
— Boston  Times. 

"  It  possesses  a  charming  simplicity  of  style  that  malces  it  extremely 
fascinating,  while  the  moral  lesson  it  conveys  commends  itself  to  every 
heart.  The  work  has  now  become  a  French  classic.  It  Ls  beautifully  got- 
ten up  and  illustrated,  and  is  a  delight  to  the  eye  as  well  as  to  the  mind 
and  heart." — Chica,^o  Herald. 

"  The  influence  of  the  book  is  wholly  good.  The  volume  is  a  par- 
ticularly handsome  one." — Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

"  It  is  a  classic.  It  has  found  an  appropriate  reliquar}'.  Faithfully 
translated,  charmingly  i'histrated  by  lean  Claude  with  fuU-paere  pictures, 
vignettes  in  the  text,  a  id  head  and  tail  pieces,  printed  in  graceful  type  on 
handsome  paper,  and  bound  with  an  art  worthy  of  Matthews,  in  half-cloth, 
ornamented  on  the  cover,  it  is  an  exemplary  book,  fit  to  be  '  a  treasure  for 
aye.'  " — New  York  Times. 

'THE    STORY   OF    COLETTE.      A   new  large-paper 
•*      edition.     With  36  Illustrations.     8vo.     Cloth,  $1.50, 

"  There  is  not  aline  in  this  little  idyl  that  is  not  as  sweet  and  fresh  as  a 
June  morning." — Boston  Co/nmercial  Bulletin. 

"  One  of  the  gems  of  the  season.  .  .  .  It  is  the  story  of  the  life  of  young 
womanhood  in  France,  dramaticilly  told,  with  the  lipht  .nnd  shade  and 
colorin°  of  the  genuine  artist,  and  is  utterly  free  from  that  which  mars  too 
many  French  novels.  In  its  literary  finish  it  is  well-nigh  perfect,  indicat- 
ing the  haid  of  the  master." — Boston  Traveller. 

"  The  binding  is  exquisite." — Rochester  Union  and  Advertiser. 


New  York  :  D.  APPLETON  &   CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


o 


D.  APPLETON   &   CO.'S    PUBLICATIONS. 

GOOD  BOOKS  FOR  YOUKG  READERS. 
iV  THE  OLD  FRONTIER  ;  or,  The  Last  Raid  of  the 


Iroquois.      By    WiLi.iAM     O.    STODDARD,    author    of 

"Crowded    Out  o'   Crofield,"   "  Littl  e  Smoke,"   "The 

Battle  of  New  York,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  H.   D.  MuR- 

PHY.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

In  this  thrilling  story  Mr.  Stoddard  is  at  his  best.  He  describes  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  settlers  in  western  New  York,  which  was  tlie  frontier  of 
the  last  century,  the  homely  yet  adventurous  existence  at  Plum  Hollow 
Fort,  the  plottiiigs  of  the  Iroquois,  their  assemblage  in  the  great  Council 
House,  and  their  final  desperate  raid.  Every  American  boy  and  girl 
should  read  the  book  for  its  historical  value  as  well  as  for  its  romantic 
interest. 

'J^HE  BOYS  OF  GREEN  WAY  COURT.  A  Story 
•^  of  the  Early  Years  of  Washington.  By  Hezekiah 
BUTTERWORTH,  author  of  "  In  the  Boyhood  of  Lin- 
coln," "  The  Log  School-house  on  the  Columbia," 
"  The  Zigzag  Books,"  etc.  Illustrated  by  H.  W. 
Pierce.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

This  is  a  tale  of  the  famous  old  manor  house  of  Greenway  Court,  the 
home  of  Lord  Fairfax,  Wasbins^ton's  early  patron.  It  is  a  book  full  of 
picturesque  incidents  and  le:;ends,  of  hunting  exploits  snd  adventures,  and 
the  figure  of  the  yoimg  Washington  is  shown  in  these  pages  in  a  light 
which  will  be  sure  to  enlist  the  interest  of  young  readers. 

C^OHN  BOYD'S  ADVENTURES.    By  Thomas  W. 
^      Knox,  author  of  "  The   Boy    Travelers,"  etc.     Illus- 
trated by  W.  S.  Stagey.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

The  hero  went  to  sea  in  the  early  part  of  the  century,  and  his  adven- 
tures as  an  Algcriiie  slave,  a  man-of-war's-nian,  an  intended  victim  of 
Chinese  pirates,  and  as  a  young  hero  in  other  stirring  scenes,  almost 
ei'circle  the  globe,  and  enable  the  author  to  convey  much  inform:ition  re- 
garding strange  people  and  countries  and  the  history  of  troublous  times. 

p4  UL  JONES.  By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell,  author 
of"  Little  Jarvis,"  "  Midshipman  Paulding,"  etc.  Illus- 
trated by  H.  D.  Murphy  and  J.  O.  Davidson. 
Young  Heroes  of  the  Navy  Series.    i2mo.    Cloth,  $1.00. 

Paul  Jones,  the  captain  who  sailed  around  the  British  Isles  and  bade 
defiance  to  the  entire  British  fleet,  is  perhaps  the  most  heroic  figure  in  the 
naval  history  of  the  Revolution,  and  readers  old  and  young  will  welcome 
this  thrilling  story  of  his  exploits. 

New  York  :  D.  APPLETON   &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON  &   CO.'S   PUBLICATIONS. 

ppiFTY  PERFECT  POEMS.  A  Collection  of  Fifty 
•^  Acknowledged  Masterpieces,  by  English  and  American 
Poets,  selected  and  edited  by  Charles  A.  Dana  and  Ros- 
SITER  Johnson.  With  Seventy-two  Illustrations.  Printed 
on  Japanese  silk  paper  and  mounted  on  the  page.  Large 
8vo.     Bound  in  white  silk,  $10.00  ;  morocco,  $15.00. 

"  '  Fifty  Perfect   Poerai; '  is  certainly  the  most  notable    gift-book  of  the 
season." — Philadelphia.  Press. 

"An  unusually  handsome  presentation  volume." — Chicago  Tribune. 

T  OVE   SONGS   OF  ENGLISH  POETS.     1500-1800. 
■*-^    With  Notes  by   Ralph  H.   Caine,  and  Frontispiece  after 
Angelica  Kauffman.      i6mo.     Cloth,  gilt,  $1.50. 
"  An  admirable  selection."  — London  A  thenaum. 


T 


N' 


N 


T 


'HE  HOUSEHOLD  BOOK  OF  POETRY.  Edited 
by  Charles  A.  Dana.  Entirely  new  edition,  from  new 
type,  with  nearly  two  hundred  additional  poems.  Steel  En- 
gravings. Square  8vo.  Cloth,  gilt,  $5.00  ;  morocco  antique, 
$10.00  ;  tree  calf,  $12.03. 

EW  EDITION  OF  ENGLISH  ODES.  Selected 
by  Edmund  W.  Gosse.  With  Frontispiece  on  India 
paper  from  a  design  by  Hamo  Thornycroft,  A,  R.  A. 
Forty-two  Head  and  Tail  Pieces  from  Original  Drawings 
by  Louis  Rhead.  i6mo.  Cloth,  special  design  in  gold, 
$1.50.     Same  in  parchment,  $1.75. 

EW  EDITION  OF  ENGLISH  LYRICS.  Uni- 
form with  "  English  Odes."  With  nearly  Eighty  Head  and 
Tail  Pieces  from  Original  Drawings  by  Louis  Rhead. 
i6mo.  Cloth,  special  design  in  gold,  $1.50.  Same  in  parch- 
ment, $1.75. 

'HE  MUSIC  SERIES.  Consisting  of  Biographical 
and  Anecdotical  Sketches  of  the  Great  German  Composers  ; 
The  Great  Italian  and  French  Composers  ;  Great  Singers ; 
Great  Viohnists  and  Pianists.  Five  volumes,  i8mo.  Half 
white  and  red  sides,  $3.00  per  set ;  half  morocco,  $8.00. 

New  York:   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S   PUBLICATIONS. 

^HE  ART  OF    THE    WORLD.     Containing   Repro- 
•^     ductions  of  the  Masterpieces  of  Painting  and  Sculpture  at  the 
Columbian  Exposition,  with  views  of  the  buildings  redrawn 
from  official  photographs.      These  Reproductions  are  Goupil 
Photogravures,  Facsimiles  in  color,  and  Typogravures. 
Masterpieces  of  Painting. 
With  the  special  approval  of  the  Artists,  Art  Commissioners,  and  Juries 
of  Selection,  the  masterpieces  of  modern  American,  French,  English,  Ger- 
man, Spanish,  Dutch,  and  Italian  art,  etc.,  which  were  seen  at  the  Colum- 
bian   Exposition,  were    carefully    selected    for"  reproduction.     They  have 
been  photographed   by  the  orthochromatic   process,  which   preserves  ihe 
color  values.     Appreciating  the   magnitude  and  beauty  of  this  work,  many 
of  the  leading  artists  of  France,   Holland  and  America  painted  replicas  of 
the  pictures  selected,  in  order  to   insure  exact  reproduction  in  color.     For 
no  art  work  ever  published  has   this  been   done  before,  and  the  prepara- 
tion of  these  costly  color  models  for  this  work  marks  a  new  departure  in  the 
making  of  art  books. 

These  pictures  are  reproduced  by  Boussod,  Valadon  &  Co.,  of  Paris, 
the  successors  of  (Joupd  &  Co.,  whose  processes  are  conceded  to  be  unap- 
proached.  No  other  work  has  the  Gonfil  photogravures,  v/hich  comhmc 
the  advantages  of  photographic  fidelity  and  artistic  handiwork,  tior  the 
Goupil  facsimiles  in  color,  wiiich  give  the  purchaser  an  exact  copy  of  a 
painting  whose  value  may  reach,  thousands   of  dollars. 

Vignette  portraits  of  eminent  artists  accompany  the  reproductions  of 
their  works,  also  portraits  of  the  chief  officers  of  the  Exposiuon. 

Sculpture  and  Architecture. 

The  work  contains  striking  reproductions,  often  in  tints,  of  the  build- 
ings, sculpture,  and  notable  details  of  the  Columbian  Exposition.  These 
buildings  are  conceded  to  be  the  noblest  architectural  triumphs  which  any 
exposition  has  brought  forth.  The  Art  of  the  World  will  form  a  pc- 
manent  record  of  America's  greatest  architectural  achievements.  For  this 
purpose  the  publishers  have  secured  the  aid  of  both  official  photographs 
and  plans,  and  also  of  the  distinguished  American  illustrator,  Mr.  Hakky 
Fknn. 

The   Descriptive  Text. 

The  descriptive  text  is  in  every  way  oflficial,  being  contributed  by  Prof. 
Halsey  C.  IvRS,  Director  of  the  Department  of  1' ine  Arts  ;  D.  H.  Bupn- 
HAM,  Director  of  Works ;  Major  Moses  P.  Handy,  Chief  of  the  Bure^ 
of  Information;  M.  Roger  Bali.u,  French  Conjmissioner  of  Fine  Arts  t» 
the  Exposition,  and  other  equally  disitiiguished  writers.  ->  I 

The  text  accompanying  the  pictures  is  by  M.  Yriakte,  the  cmini^nt 
French  critic,  editor  of  higaro  lihtstri,  and  contains  brief,  readable 
biographies  of  eminent  foreign  artists,  entertaining  descriptions  of  the  pic- 
tures which  are  reproduced,  and  oftentimes  graphic  personal  sljetches. 


To  be  issued  in  thirty  parts,  twenty-five  of  which  will  each  cbntain  iu^o 
Goupil  photogravures,  two  typogr.ivures  in  colors  (facsimiles)',  and  about 
ten  typogiavures  in  the  text;  and  five  will  be  devoted  loihe  reproduction 
in  photogravure  and  typogravure  of  the  Exposition  bijiidings  and  statuary, 
etc.  Two  parts  will  be  issued  monthly  until  the  w&»k)is  complete.  Price 
of  each  part,  One  Dollar.  / 

New  York  :  D.  APPLETON   &  C0.,  i/^  &  s  Bond  Street. 


CTI-LJf 


liurfcl: 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

^°     LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


6J?^5'<^ 


CM 


ob=Mii 


I  c^rfSZ 


/ 


B 


Qf  I  UC  SOUTHERN  lU  GIONAL  LIBRARY  ^^^j^l^^. 

AA    000  915  437    8 


^       J. 


-  »     «    2 


N 


\ 


3  1205  00894  7747 

4 

o 


^ 


^i 


r) 


3 
•   VIN80A10  40   e^ 


o  vsvaavB  vxNvs  o 
2 


9 


5^ 


o  AusQAiNn  am  <> 


«  THE  UfiRAIty  OF  e 


1  Jt^ 

r* 

1 

^  V 

f- 

e 

s 

S 

1 

O    VIMKMmO  JO   • 


o   1HE  UNIVERSITY    o 


/ 


as 


6 


«  $ANTA  ftARaARA  O, 


r 

\ 


e    OF  CAUFORNIA    o 


u 


CO 


3^ 


•  to  Mymn  a»u  • 


o 

tH£  UNIVERSmr 

o 

s 

1 

I 

1 

c 

9 

< 

r 

5 

1 

•  SANTA  BASBAKA  • 


e   OF  CAUFORNIA   e 

,.1 T — -!<« 


.1  ^  i  ^  1^ 


/ 


